In the great futuristic novel Neuromancer, William Gibson describes a bartender with a prosthetic arm as taking some perverse pleasure in maintaining a whining, whirring appendage instead of electing for a modern surgery to replace it. In my shop tonight I wondered once again at my insistence upon using a chisel and hot hide glue to shape a table inspired by 18th century French masters. Although I am spending more hours than I care to count, my enjoyment in mastering traditional techniques is not really perverse. In fact there may be no better way to veneer such a complex form. But in an age where computers and cheap labor can produce an object of similar affect and for a fraction of the cost, I have to question why I even started. I am intrigued by the form, confident that it will be beautiful, and that perhaps it may impress colleagues and connoisseurs, but zut alors! What a lot of work!!