A while ago I was watching This Old House (as I do, religiously, fun fact you almost certainly did not know about how I spend my free time) and Nick Offerman popped up on it, and I lost my shit. It was like seeing all the Avengers together onscreen at once, or like when Sean Connery popped up at the end of Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. I had known that Offerman—best known for playing Ron Swanson on Parks and Rec—was into woodworking, but I did not know how into it he was, as demonstrated in this sequence, in which all the This Old House guys charmingly, awkwardly attempt to be funny while Offerman actually is funny:
The "What Is It?" sequence has never been my favorite element of This Old House, but it is fine, I guess. If Offerman was on this sequence every week I would feel less grumpy when it came on and disrupted the other, better parts of This Old House*.
Even better than the oar-related clip above, however, is Offerman getting real and talking about why woodworking matters. So does knitting! And lasagna! And old people! They matter too.
All of these things are true.**
I tell you all of this because tonight, Offerman is at Powell's Books at Cedar Hills Crossing, reading from his woodworking book Good Clean Fun, and there is no way—no way—that it is not going to be delightful and educational and make you want to make things. There is no way, basically, that it's not going to be a good use of your time.
*I am aware that "What Is It?" is, technically, a sequence not on This Old House but rather on This Old House spinoff Ask This Old House, which has a more informal tone, a Q&A-style format, and does not feature beloved Master Carpenter Norm Abram. But as both of these shows otherwise share stars and subject matter, I think it's fair to basically talk about them the same way—as separate but inextricably linked worlds in the This Old House Universe.
**As far as I can tell, at least. For several summers as a dumb teenager I worked (poorly) as a gofer on construction sites, cutting and pouring and framing and painting and drywalling and hammering and generally putting myself in positions where I was primed to lose a finger or break a leg; this translated, eventually, into marginal construction and handyman skills which, as a studio apartment dweller, I miss being able to put to (poor) use. Do you need something done to your house? Let me know! I will help.***
***If we are friends. If you are just an internet stranger you should ask Ask This Old House.