It has been a few years since I was under the hood. And I am the first to admit that: "You DON'T want me welding on your job".
Today, the Trainer was manually cutting some practice plates for next week's hands on session. Nice and smooth, a true Journeyman/Craftsman/Artisan. Admiring his skill, and not wishing to be out done, I told him that I had always taken pride in being good with a torch and used to hand bevel pipe in a single cut. He offered me the Victor. It felt good in my hands. It gave me that warm nostalgic feeling as if reunited with a long lost lover in my arms. Visions from years past danced through my minds eye... sitting on the edge of the iron trimming away on a 3 ton main steam hanger a hundred yards above the Earth, pick-up trucks looking like a MatchBox toys beneath me...
I fired up the trusty gas axe, made the adjustments and was soon listening to the rattle of a clean tip and correct pressures. Got it, all's good. Made a practice run across the length of the chalk line with elbows securely braced. Got it, all's good. Began cutting and heard that pleasant sound of liquified steel sputtering, indicative of a clean cut with minimal dross adhesion to the plate... followed through like a golf pro, hearing the rattle once again and the pieces separating with a nice thunk... YES! .... I then looked at the cut... the horror...
Well, let's just say that a beaver amped up on Methamphetamines would have gnawed off a straighter, smoother line.

I gotta get me a little shop time and get my hand back..........