Asking someone if they are a woody could definitely be taken the wrong way but in this instance, it is meant strickly in woody fashion, which basically means do you enjoy the pursuit of building with wood. OK, stop and think for minute, what were you doing an hour ago? Were you working with wood, thinking about wood, considering projects to be made from wood pencils, popcycle sticks, or admiring the woodwork in your favorite restaurant, if you answered yes to any of those, you ARE a woody.
Every time you go out to the store you check out the displays and see how they were built. You visually inspect the joints on wood furniture even when they aren't yours and you have no intentions of making them so. You walk by the particle board furniture and sneer, KNOWING you can do better. Sorry, there is no hope, you are undeniably a woody. Chin up, you have joined a not exclusive, predominantly friendly, almost to a fault helpful, fraternity of woodworkers. You know how to spot them, they've got sawdust on their almost shined shoes, trapped in the folds of their clothes, and the real fanatics have invisible eyes since their glasses are coated in so much sawdust. It's all good. Talk miters, dovetails, power tools, dado's, rips and crosscuts, it IS a universal lanquage.
OK, so perhaps I am a might 'round the bend. I'm a WOODY, and I'm PROUD of it! Now, if you can make that claim in your normal voice, in earshot of your friends and neighbors, you too are a WOODY! If enough of us walk around declaring our Woodydom, we will either be locked up as crazies or we will infect others... I say, "WOODIES UNITE!" Now I will carefully step down from my soap box, a marginally constructed affair, never intended to support my mass, let alone when I am yelling and jumping up and down. You ARE a Woody. Get out there and make some chips!!!
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