Thursday, November 02, 2006

plastic robot shark hookers

One day back in 2002 I decided I wanted to take up resin casting, which is a hobby where I make little figures out of plastic. Usually my subjects are little plastic futuristic jets, little plastic robots, little plastic sharks, and little plastic robot sharks piloting little plastic futuristic jets. Unfortunately I knew that I was about as skilled at sculpting as a Jawa who wants some hot Jawa on Ewok porn but doesn't know how to use the intertron because that invention is still a long, long, time away from being invented in a galaxy far, far away from him. Sculpting all these little figures in plastic can't be done with normal household items like sandpaper and sharp rocks. You need a personal rotary tool.

One company has come to define the industry standard in personal rotary tools with their name-"Dremel". Even I as a young naive 28 year old at the time knew you don't just go to the store and say, "I need a personal rotary tool". That would be confusing to the employees and they'd think you want a vibrator or something. You say, "I need a Dremel". Dremel is the awesome hand job from that smokin' hot hooker who you couldn't believe was only charging $20 and she kind of looks like the japanese cartoon girl you really like. Dremel is what every plastic shark making guy needs.

So I bought my Dremel at a Wal Mart in Tucson, Arizona one night in 2002. It wasn't the top of the line model. I didn't even know if it was what someone at my pathetic skill level needed. But I chose it and in the thousands of hours since then, the little plastic robots I made have delighted toy robot nerds like myself worldwide. That Dremel has been with me in Tucson, in crappy hell world (aka Turkey), at every Botcon and Transformer convention from Los Angeles to Kentucky and I'm even thinking of taking it with me to Antarctica when I go back to work this month. We've been through a lot together. I think that sometimes my Dremel is the only one who really understands how much hard work it was to make all those plastic robot shark hookers.

Now four years later my Dremel is dying. The motor sputters and doesn't run at full RPM and it's just a matter of time before it can no longer be used. I still have a few projects to finish and I'm sure they'll be the last ones for my Dremel. I'm getting a little sad about this. It's like seeing your old dog suffering from that condition where they hack and cough a lot because their lungs are slowly filling with blood and there's nothing you can do about it, but you still go to the park every weekend and pretend that everything's okay.

I can't believe I'm so worked up over an inanimate object that has a part on top that goes around and around really fast. I searched through my thoughts for a parallel in all of the television shows I used to watch as a kid. Did the Dukes of Hazzard ever drive so recklessly that they got in a fiery wreck and Roscoe P. Coltrane used the jaws of life to retrieve their mangled bodies, destroying the General Lee in the process? No. The General Lee was always there for them, even during that one season when they had the funny looking brothers that I swear I saw making out in one episode.

But you know who did have to lose his favorite inanimate object that had parts that turned around real fast? K.I.T.T., the little robot that lived in Michaels Knight's car. I remember there was an episode of Knights Riders where K.I.T.T. got all smashed by that Goliath 18 wheeler robot and they had to take his brain out of his body. They had to make him a new body. His old one was gone like the lawn. K.I.T.T. is my spiritual robo-brother in these trying times.

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