Speaking of hammers.
I am one of those people that I does not buy the cheapest tools, but unless I can justify the use, my budget dictates the level of quality. Usually low mid level quality.
Sometimes we do come into good deals though. I was out walking in the hardware store one day and saw a beautiful hammer in the clearance bin. A 16oz Eastwing claw hammer with laminated leather grip. Almost looked like a piece of art. I picked it up to admire, figuring that I couldn't even afford the clearance price. I turned it over and there, to my wondering eyes, is a $5 sticker on it.
I quickly ran to the cashier to pay for my prize and run. She was suspicious of the price and called the manager for a price check. He said it was not possible for it to be $5. He scanned the hammer's bar code and the price came up $79.99. That he said is the price, the wrong sticker is on the hammer. I pointed out to him that the product code on the $5 sticker was the same as the hammers code. He looked at it and was forced to sell it to me for the price on the sticker. With a little regret, I then became a nice guy. Rather than running back to the clearance bin myself, I told the manager that there were 4 more hammers in the same bin. He thanked me and ran over to the get them out of the bin and fix the tags.
Now a quick story of friendship.
One of my best friends, we met at recruit school back in '85 when we joined the same branch of the army, was helping me do some renos. We were in the dirt crawlspace underneath my house, very low, only about 30" of space. He was nocking a wedge under a beam to give it a little lift. He grabbed a piece of 2x4, held it to the wedge and used it as a hammering block. Worked well, and almost had the wedge in place when the 2x4 snapped. He quickly looked around and not seeing anymore pieces of wood, he grabbed my hammer, yes the Eastwing. He laid the handle along the edge of the wedge and pulled his arm back for a last mighty swing. This is when I see what is happening. The world slows down, his "real $5" hammer, is approaching my work of art for the devastating blow. The word STOP is screaming in my mind, but the words are not leaving my lips fast enough. The hammer connects and I can literally see the spider web of cracks forming on the handle as the crushing blow lands.
He stops and looks at me with an odd expression. "What?"
I say, "Do you realize that that is an $80 hammer you are smashing?"His jaw dropped. It was very difficult not to dig a little hole off to the side of the crawl space, and leave my friend there, never to be seen again.
We came out from under the house and examined the hammer. While the hard finish over the leather was spider cracked, it was still in usable condition. He said he truly was sorry. I of course forgave him but said that he owed me big. Later that afternoon, he showed up with a case of beer and two large steaks for the bbq.
Friendship wins again. That was about 6 years ago, and I'm still using the hammer today.
