It was a Revolutionary War-era frigate, thousands of little pieces, some so tiny I have to fit them together with tweezers and a magnifying glass—the kind of model only a serious builder will tackle, and I ain’t patting myself on the back saying that, it’s the truth. It’s about three-quarters done—I’ve been working on it every night for almost a month. My room is like a miniature nautical museum, filled with ships and boats of various sizes and displacements, all of which I’ve made myself. I’ve been making models seriously for two years now and I’m damn good at it if I do say so myself, although normally I’m not the type who goes around bragging on himself. Other people say it, too, people who know what they’re talking about, like the guys who run the hobby shop where I buy my models. They tell me I’m as good as any of their adult customers, and they’re not blowing smoke up my ass, either. They appreciate a good builder no matter how old he is. Besides all the ships I’ve got Navy posters and pictures plastered all over the walls as well.
