Hey, welcome to my shop! Glad you’re here. I hope that when we’re done working on your car we’ll have become real good friends. But before you begin let me get a few things out on the table.

First of all, take a good look around. See where things are. Pay particular attention as to how I’ve arranged things – how the tools are laid out arranged by size (or not?), the drill bits are in their proper places – all those anal idiosyncrasies of mine. Humor me and put things back like you found them. And if you can’t find something, try “Hey, Henry, where are your tap and dies?” It’s cool!

And while we are on putting back, please put them back clean - and right after you have used them. There are several people using these tools and it’s a real pain in the butt to have to go around and ask who has the 7/16th deep socket. Sure, you may be using it in the next hour or so, but I may want to use it in the next fifteen minutes. And I don’t want to pick up a dirty tool. You might consider putting a rag into your back pocket – it might come in handy for a variety of uses – like cleaning tools.

Putting it back brings up a big pet peeve of mine. I better get it out now so that you won’t hear me swearing about it later. When you put back nuts, bolts, washers – you know, all the hardware that wasn’t used, or isn’t needed - put it back in the right place. I go bananas when I pull out a bolt and what I think is the right nut for it, only to find after I’ve crawled under the car and am in a most uncomfortable position, that the nut is a National Fine and I’ve got a coarse threaded bolt. I’m going to kill that jerk who put the wrong nut in the right place. If you don’t know where it goes, or aren’t sure of what it is, put it in the Strange Hardware Pan. I’ll put it away – correctly – later. Thanks for your understanding.

And understand about Ollie – he’s mine. I pay him. He works for me. I tell him what to do. I may tell him to work with you. But you don’t tell him to work for you. I do that. You don’t want to confuse Ollie about who’s the boss around here. He can get confused enough as it is. And listen to Ollie. He’s been around the barn more than a few times. He knows a lot more than his quiet self let’s on. Sometimes he’ll be quiet just to see what kind of a hole you’ll dig yourself into. It’s his idea of fun.

One thing he won’t be quiet about is safety. I won’t either. You may have a death wish, but it isn’t going to be in my shop. No cutting, stabbing, or falling objects are allowed. Before you lift the car up, get Ollie, or me to check it. Using the power tools falls into this category. Sawing off fingers, shoving drill bits into hands or other semi-soft tissue isn’t allowed. Setting the building on fire with spilled gas while you’re using the grinder is dumb and very expensive.

Yes, I know, you have used an air driven grinding wheel before, but please ask me before you use any of my power tools. I like to check the new people out in using my tools. I might be able to show you a new trick, or a better way. Hey, you might even be able to teach me something new. I also might be able to suggest a different tool for the job. But in any case, they’re my tools, and power tools can be dangerous. Plus, I hate blood on the floor. If you need a “proper” reason, it’s because my insurance says so. Whatever!

If you break, or damage a tool, tell me right away. I might have another available or I might be able to fix it. It drives me crazy when I find a galled shank on a drill bit because the chuck wasn’t tightened down, and now the bit won’t fit into its proper slot. Hey, it can be fixed – just tell me so it can get fixed. Worse yet, is to find that bit still in the drill press the next morning. So you break the tip on a screw driver while using it as a pry-tool. OK, it is supposed to be a SCREW driver. Don’t hide it. Tell me, please. It’s like my father use to yell at me, “Tell me the truth, I can stand it!”

Let’s talk about the work tables and counters. The way I see it, these spaces are for work, not for resting personal stuff. Please don’t put your coat, lunch, magazines or other “stuff” on them. And when you are using them for work, get your work off them as soon as possible. Don’t leave your “in progress” stuff in everyone’s way. We have all got to share, and that includes the flat surfaces about thirty-six inches high.

I like it when people keep me informed. I’m not a busybody, but it really helps me in keeping the shop moving (and making me a profit). Tell me what your plans are. Let me know if you’re going to need help, assistance or even advice. Let me know if you’re not going to be in the shop for a day or two. You don’t have to tell me when you need a potty break, but do tell me if you have to step out of the shop for an appointment with your shrink, or whomever. It might save us from calling out the search and rescue team, or wondering if you have fallen into the oil change pit and can’t get out.

About fifteen, or twenty minutes before closing time, stop what you are doing. It’s time to put the tools away – clean. It’s time to clean up your area and more. We sweep, after we have cleaned the benches and standing tools. (No sense in sweeping twice.) Do more than your share – it’s a nice thing to do. It is so nice to come into a clean shop in the morning – I look forward to it – no, I expect it.

Please don’t ask me to work after hours or weekends. Don’t ask me to let you, or your friends, work after hours or weekends. I have shop hours for a reason. It keeps my marriage working and I really do like my wife. Those shop hours also might keep me healthy by working a semi-normal day. And please don’t ask me to let you borrow tools. I’m going to say no.

Finally, let’s be considerate of everyone in the shop. You may be the CEO of a multi-million dollar enterprise, or the recently elected poopa of the world, but in my shop you’re just another grease monkey, so be polite, be nice, be helpful and keep your remarks on the kind side. We’ll all have fun that way and at no one’s expense.

There will be no written test on this stuff. But, there will be observations, and in my mind, you’ll be getting a “fitting in” grade. Let’s face it; we all do it with each other. It’s part of how we decide on what kind of friends we’re going to be. I really hope that we will become very good friends.
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Some Notes on Henry’s Garage

In the summer of 1953, my buddy, Ollie, went to work for Henry at his garage in Belmont very near the Belmont Raceway. For a dead beat kid and a soon to be junior at Sequoia High in Redwood City, this was quite the big deal. Ollie and I had two passions: money and cars. (Girls came several years later – we were slow in developing.) And, as one might assume, the former was rare because of the later. I worked at Barney’s warehouse a couple of blocks away from Henry’s. Ollie cleaned up after Henry, got him tools and supplies, and occasionally, got to do some work on cars. I made fireplace grates and swept floors.

Because the shops at Sequoia High were closed during the summer, my normal repair station wasn’t available. It was mid July when I stressed my 40’ Ford coupe during a drag race on the Great Hiway in San Francisco. (I won!) I needed to get into the flathead and check it out. Ollie suggested that maybe I could work something out with Henry. Henry was agreeable – for some change, or “whatever I might have that would be of value to him”. The monolog that was a part of that first meeting has become the basis of “Welcome to Henry’s Garage”.

I don’t claim that this ia a word-for-word account of what Henry said – give me a break, that was fifty-four years ago, and I’m now having trouble remembering where I live. Henry didn’t cuss, but when he spoke, you listened. Henry may have covered a couple of topics I’ve forgotten, and I may have added in one or two that he didn’t bring up, but as I’ve already said, “Give me a break!”

What is interesting, to me, is that this same presentation could take place in many shops today, and it wouldn’t necessarily be aimed at kids. I’ve had the pleasure of spending time in many shops – wood shops, metal fab shops, machine shops, sign shops, auto shops, glass shops, art studios, upholstery shops, welding shops and even kitchens. These “guidelines” have always applied. And it doesn’t matter whether it is a professional shop, or someone’s garage, the same rules still apply - until the owner says, “Hey, I don’t care!” At least that’s the way I see it. For me it comes down to respect. And when Henry found out that I respected him, his shop and his rules, “I was in like Flynn”.

What is even more interesting, to me, is the number of people I’ve run into that don’t get these simple “rules”. They seem to be in another world. I think their idea of respect is a one way street centered around themselves. That might be too harsh, but the result is always the same, an awkward environment. Some owners handle it with grace and calmness. Some aren’t blessed with that temperament and then it gets really interesting. Sometimes the situation goes on for too long with the atmosphere getting weirder and more difficult. Friendship is hard to have when respect is missing. And respect is a reciprocal thing.

At any rate, I’ve said my piece. I’m very thankful to those men in my life that got a wild-assed kid, with no patience, to realize that there are some values worth living with. My thanks go to Henry, Ray Ryberg, Barney Barnenblatt, my shop teachers, Master Sgt. Runky, my father-in-law, Ransel Coats, and even my dad, Joe Paige. I can say I got it. Can you?

Oh, about my car... it was some burned valves. The result of too much cam I suspect. But valves were easy, thanks to Henry. The cam stayed because it was special – a gift from Ed Iskenderian. But that’s another story. Ollie? Well he owned Henry’s some years later, and then sold the land when that part of Belmont became Redwood Shores. That dead beat kid has done pretty well for himself. And I guess I have too.

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