This website requires certain cookies to work and uses other cookies to help you have the best experience. By visiting this website, certain cookies have already been set, which you may delete and block. By closing this message or continuing to use our site, you agree to the use of cookies. Visit our updated privacy and cookie policy to learn more.
This Website Uses Cookies By closing this message or continuing to use our site, you agree to our cookie policy. Learn MoreThis website requires certain cookies to work and uses other cookies to help you have the best experience. By visiting this website, certain cookies have already been set, which you may delete and block. By closing this message or continuing to use our site, you agree to the use of cookies. Visit our updated privacy and cookie policy to learn more.
I was fortunate enough to attend the Specialties of the Drywall Trade Instructor Seminar held from Oct. 30 to Nov. 3 at the IUPAT facility in Baltimore. It was obvious that a lot of planning went into setting up this building, with classrooms on the upper level and a lower level that is wide open, allowing plenty of room for the attendees to hone their skills on miles of drywall.
When a blues music aficionado uses the term “old school,” he may be referring to artists such as Muddy Waters, Etta James, John Lee Hooker or B.B. King. When old school country music artists are discussed, names such as Bob Wills, Hank Williams Sr., Jimmie Rogers and Patsy Cline will certainly be mentioned. In this instance, old school is used in a positive way. The inference is that these artists were pioneers in their field and that their contributions have stood the test of time and that their art is still considered relevant, even though it was produced decades ago.
Being on the front line of the drywall trade allows this reporter a unique perspective into the everyday trials and tribulations of a broad spectrum of drywall dogs.
Once upon a time, long before there were ads for lawyers on every corner, television, radio station, billboard and listed on 72 pages of every phone book in the country, job-site practical jokes were commonplace.
The year was 1977 and yours' truly was trying desperately to hold the end of a 12-foot sheet up while trying to finger a nail into the edge of the board and hit the nail instead of my fingers with a roofing hatchet. If memory serves, back then we were using blue ring shank nails. The heads were barely larger than the circumference of the rings, so it was virtually impossible to drive one without ripping the face paper under ideal conditions, and these were not ideal conditions.
Before you hurt yourself jumping out of your Barcalounger so you can dial up the editor to launch complaints about this piece, a thread on the Walls and Ceilings bulletin board regarding "Box Marts" struck a nerve in yours truly and was the motivation behind this month's diatribe.