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The depth stop on my Harbor Freight drill press had always been flexy and weak. It was, after all, made of plastic and thus nicely combined the two things you don't want in a depth stop, flex and crappy material. Last night, having gone down to the basement, late, on a whim, my abdominal muscles and/or something under them screaming, I broke it off.

The new forstner bit I was trying out for the "top secret project" seemed to be resisting even its expected slow penetration into the wood and so I leaned on it a bit harder and the depth gauge broke. It hadn't been the resistance of the bit going into the wood that I had felt, it was the flexy, never-positive feel of the depth stop that I'd been pushing against.

And so, just like that, I had a new project to inventioneer! Brilliant! Not me, certainly, but the prospect of something new to half-a$$ed build, to semi-create. Out of pieces never before imagined to do what they would be doing, yet doing them surprisingly well.

Sometimes not so pretty, but always very functional. And much cheaper, in dollars and cents, than the poor-quality, factory original. That, my friends, is how we roll. That, aside from our quiet, quirky, insightful grandson, is what we love.

Almost before I'd confirmed that the new bit was gonna, ahem, do its bit for the "top secret project," I'd taken the broken part off the drill press and turned the mind loose on the possibilities for its replacement.

And I decided, after rejecting (1) the idea of super-gluing the broken piece or (2) having a new piece custom-machined out of aluminum billet, to use an old-fashioned saddle-style muffler clamp--in stainless steel, maybe--as the mounting base for my new depth stop. That should fit nicely, I hoped, around the 1.583" radius-ed part of the drill press and provide a built-in fastener for the stop itself. Voila!

So I searched the internet to be sure they even made such things anymore--it's been awhile since I've been under a car, or anything besides the weather, lately. And, sure enough, I found dozens of them--including a fancy chrome number from a custom motorcycle shop. Gotta love the internet.

This morning, though, I'm gonna try my luck at the local Auto Zone--the little hole-in-the-wall places I used to go don't exist anymore. Such is life, I guess, but at least I'll avoid the wait and paying for shipping and handling.

A little later, I'll pull on my cargo pants and Mossy Oak shirt--because they're loose around the tender mid-section--and slip on my boots-- because I can get them on and off without bending, which my wrecked body says is a no-no--and head down to Genesee Street.

Only wish that I could inventioneer some better parts for the machine I've been driving for the past 74 years, but so far haven't come up with anything...

LPK
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2.15.2019

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