Need someone to hang a picture, install a hand bidet, or re-caulk a shower? Then call me, the Andyman. I’m Andrew Schroeder, a carpenter working with my father Henry and his long-time partner Ollie in North Carolina. My side jobs as a handyman has earned me the handle Andyman, which is also the title of my story of working in the building trades.
Back in the Clinton days I worked for several years with Henry and Ollie, then I got married, went back to school, worked at a newspaper and had kids. The newspaper hours were terrible for family living, so nine years ago I moved back to Coopsville and went to work swinging a hammer with pops and Ollie. The first few years I entertained visions of getting back into the newspaper work, but it seemed like every day papers were closing down, staffs were being cut; and yet, all the same, fresh young journalists were arriving on the scene with their fresh young portfolios. I sensed that newspapers were like a sinking ship just off shore, and trying to get back in the game would be like swimming out, against the tide, to this sinking ship. So five years ago I gave up and bought a truck.
A truck, to a tradesman, is like a horse to a cowboy. It’s a ride that gives you a sense of belonging amongst the tangle of rigs parked out front of a jobsite, of belonging to a brotherhood of tradesmen. I crossed the Rubicon with my black Tacoma, and would now be hitching my future to the money I could earn from my tools.
But 2010 was a precarious time to enter the trades with all four tires, as reckless financial speculation on housing was dragging the economy into the Great Recession. There were noticeable affects on us carpenters. We were doing fewer big additions, and more maintenance, like repair of rotten siding and windowsills. People were holding back on their wish lists and doing the minimal to keep their homes from completely succumbing to entropy. This meant fewer jobs, shorter weeks, and extra free time. So I started a log.
For two years I wrote about houses, where they fail, what materials to avoid, when is a good time to have work done. I wrote about my father, who’s been a carpenter since the 70’s, and Ollie, who was my second grade gym teacher and has been working with my dad for thirty-five years. I covered the other tradesmen I met, and the affect of the recent influx of Mexicans into the trades. I described the tools, the sounds, the smells, the pleasures and the agonies of working as a carpenter. I peered into the homes of our customers and explored their lives and toured their grounds. And finally, since I often work outside, I kept tabs on the seasons, the flora and the fauna of North Carolina.
Since those days things have picked up a bit, our regular customers have come out of their shells and we’re remodeling bathrooms and adding skylights and fulfilling other domestic wishes. However, being busy has prevented me from doing anything with the 200,000 words I generated. It’s now time to take this rough pile of language and hone them into something of lasting quality, and I’m hoping you can help.
With your money I pan to take a month off work so that I can use the most productive hours of the day writing Andyman instead of spackling strike plates. It may seem that $12,840 is a lot to ask, but only $2,500 of that goes to my month-long sabbatical. The rest of the money Inkshares uses to edit, design, print and distribute the finished product. So please read the sample chapter and consider giving your financial support to the creation of Andyman: Life in the Trades.