Waxed, polished and very sharp.
One of my pet peeves is when people ask “what’s it worth?”
On the open market, the flea market or online auction, with a moderate coating of rust and dirt – this saw is worth less than a bag of groceries at Whole Foods. If I’d found it at a tag sale, I may have opened my wallet for ten bucks. In spite of my peeve, I catch myself computing the hours spent restoring a tool at a fair wage – say 8 hours x $20 an hour = $160. I consider the price of a top quality new tool; A Lie-Nielsen panel saw can be purchased for $225. This tool isn’t rare, but particularly attractive to me; pre WWII, 5 teeth per inch, filed for ripping, very nicely carved handle with thumbhole, no cracks in the handle or chunkers in the horns, straight blade, used but not abused. There was potential beneath the dirt and rust. It just needed some attention.
The value to me is more warm and fuzzy than U.S. dollars reflect. The satisfaction of a job well done, the potential for future furniture projects, the thoughtful meditation while restoring the tool, the idea that this saw’s history reaches beyond the grave. This saw brings back the dead, bringing memories of past owners, their care and aspirations are alive in my hands, in my shop. It’s impossible to quantify this inspirational value.
On top of that, the saw had belonged to the father of dear friends. That aspect makes this Ted Saw unique and one-of-a-kind. Sotheby’s or Christie’s appraisers would roll their eyes when I put the value at $10,000. I’d take $250 (if someone waved the cash), but I’d possibly donate it to an aspiring furniture maker.
Better yet, I’d recommend that the aspiring galoot hunt down a similar saw; Disston, Atkins, Warranted Superior, Peace or others – and create their own heirloom. It’s not rocket science and there are many excellent online resources. The satisfaction is priceless.
Start here: www.disstonianinstitute.com