NEXT DOOR TO MY CHILDHOOD HOME lived Mr Piccolo. He had an interesting garage. Packed within its vast space were dusty bins, shelves, and boxes, inmates in his dark laboratory of experiments. Mr. Piccolo was a machinist. When not at work or helping his loving wife, he’d be in his garage. Making, fixing, or improving something.
Even the magic word FREE was of little significance to a seven-year old. Tools were something other people used. Not me. I was more the Legos® and wooden blocks type. It took over a decade as tradesperson before I began buying Craftsman. Mostly their screwdrivers or tape measures.
Sears is different now, victim to a hedge fund. Little remains of a Sears I knew even ten years ago. But the Craftsman name survives.
My go-to poker for delicate work is their ⅛” x 2″ slotted screwdriver. Great for digging out threads from busted gas pipe. Or opening up a crack on Pete’s bouzouki top for better glue insertion. Hammered straight and filed sharp many times over its past two decades, she finally screamed, “ENOUGH”.
Fisher’s Ace Hardware was the solution. The local Sears Craftsman Store had closed, but Fisher’s had a full selection, and honored the Craftsman Replacement Warranty. A fast, simple transaction later, I had a new screwdriver. Plus a roll of painter’s tape for Pete’s bouzouki refurbishment. Back in business, we are!