I worked hard to make something straightforward to produce and simple to assemble (the wood is attached to the frame with only three bolts). The simplicity requires a lot of precision and concentration during construction, but confers a degree of flexibility. The Brink will be available in custom heights, and I’ve already begun drafting a nested version!

After a few pages of designs ranging from the wild to the wildly impractical, I settled on a two-legged, cantilevered design. I wanted to contrast the stark minimalism of a floating tabletop with the heavy-duty functionality of its materials. While it’s less stable than a four-legged design (lean on the corner of the wood, and you’re both going down) end tables aren’t usually subjected to the same weights and stresses as desks or coffee tables. Plus, I’m a hypocrite – always against trading function for form, until I like the way it looks.

Once the fins are separated, I drill a hole near the base for the power cord and start removing the paint with acetone. It’s a messy process, and I wear gloves, glasses, and a respirator to protect myself. Acetone isn’t the MOST dangerous chemical in the shop, but it dries out your skin and can be carcinogenic – and that’s before it mixes with 60-year-old industrial primer. While the acetone strips the paint, it leaves a gross, thin film of neutralized particles behind. This comes off easily during the sanding and polishing process. But before I start sanding, I TIG weld the steel pipe that holds the socket. TIG welding tends to leave heat marks on steel, so I can sand those off at the same time.

I do three rounds of sanding with 320-, 400-, and 600-grit sandpaper. The 320 is the most aggressive and the most time-intensive, since it is used to remove the paint film and any spots the acetone may have missed. Some paint remains in seams and deep-set areas, but I let it stay. It enhances the appearance of the original welds and keeps the finished piece from looking too sterile. The 400- and 600-grit papers even out the finish left by the first round, and eventually bring the metal up to a shine. (Sanding tip: always sand in a single direction. This minimizes the appearance of scratches, making it possible to create a high shine without using insanely high grits or fine steel wool.)

Once the steel is sanded and polished, it’s time to seal it. Steel is very easy to seal, with hundreds of products that provide some measure of protection against moisture and rust. I use a heavy-duty lacquer on the underside of the lamp, and an oil-wax blend from Sculpt Nouveau on the exterior. The lacquer keeps the rusty interior of the bomb from oxidizing further, but tends to run and pool when applied, making it unsuitable for complex or curvy areas. The oil blend is less durable, but applies much more evenly than the lacquer. It’s also much simpler to repair. If new rust somehow forms on a lacquered steel, the entire finish has to be re-applied. With the oil, spots can be neutralized with WD-40 without compromising the finish. Even in the event of severe damage (e.g. an unnoticed spill, a window left open during a storm) the original finish can be reapplied to the damaged area, rather than the entire piece.

Unlike most of my designs to date, this end table doesn’t incorporate any specific military components. Instead, the military influence is revealed with clean, functional lines and minimalist construction. And as a bonus, the relative simplicity should translate to a lower price point than my other furniture pieces.

The table’s name comes from its unique, reverse-fastened leg frames. Originally I wanted to use a matte black powder coat over the steel, but I the more organic appearance of the black patina goes better with the oak tabletop. The ammo cans started out as a darker, less saturated green, but I had to repaint them to get rid of some surface rust.

I’m extremely happy with the final product.  Apart from adding a coffee table to my line, I’ll definitely incorporate this floating leg design into a future pieces. Between the oak and the steel it is surprisingly heavy, but I’ll dress that up as “substantial” in the product copy.

This is only the rough assembly, done to make sure the holes are in the right places and to make sure it won’t collapse under its own weight. The wood isn’t sanded or sealed, and most of the steel is unpainted. But this design is exciting for me, and not just because it’s Stockpile’s first coffee table. I took a cue from shared components in military design, and used one standard size of hardware. That way, this table can ship disassembled without forcing buyers through a fiendishly complicated set of instructions. Check out the gallery of steps in the prototyping process, with explanations of how the whole thing came together.

The Silo Table, before attempting to travel via Amtrak

A few months ago, I tried to board a train with a bomb.

Or that’s what some people at Penn Station thought. I was heading to Baltimore via Amtrak to deliver the last Silo table. After careful packing and a miserable, rush-hour car trip to Manhattan, the baggage counter informed me Amtrak would not check furniture. No matter how safely it was packed.

I was ready to panic. My customer had bought a (very expensive) train ticket to have his (very expensive) table delivered by hand. I begged the station manager to let me bring it on board. “It can sit in my lap! I’ll stand! I’ll ride between cars!” Anything to get there. Fortunately, the station manager was game. If I could carry it over my shoulder, and was really willing to keep it in my lap if the seats were full, it could ride. But I’d have to take it out of the box.

Apart from the annoyance of dismantling my carefully-constructed packaging with a set of keys in the middle of a crowded train station, I didn’t think there would be a problem. The table is TECHNICALLY made with a giant bullet, but between the wooden shaft and the table frame bolted to it, it’s pretty obviously furniture. On the other hand, people in NYC are justifiably paranoid about weapons in public, but surely nobody would be so jumpy as to –

“Excuse me sir, could you tell me what that is?” asked the police officer.

To her credit the officer was responding to a tip, and figured it was furniture before she even asked. Unfortunately, whenever someone reports a “suspicious package or activity,” there’s a mandatory procedure the NYPD has to follow before they’ll let you move along. So the cop and I were stuck making awkward small talk while we waited for her backup and a bomb-sniffing dog.

A small crowd of policemen formed nearby. I think a few weren’t actually backup, but taking advantage of a rare non-confrontational break in their routine. All were very polite and professional, and a few chatted about my work and the wisdom of travelling with such a threatening-looking design.

“They made me take it out of the box,” I offered weakly.

As the cops milled about, several travelers crept up and pointed at the table. They apparently assumed the officers were gathered for an unrelated reason. Maybe to discuss a collective loss of peripheral vision. None rolled their eyes, but I could tell they wanted to.

Finally the bomb dog breezed through, showing less interest in the table than the nearby trash can, and I was free to go. But before I headed to the line for my train, the responding officer had an idea. To minimize the superfluous tips about my “suspicious” table, she grabbed a large bag from a nearby shop and pulled it over the steel cap of the bullet.

A table with protection

“There,” she said, “now it looks safer. Just keep that on.”

“So… it’s kind of like a table condom, right?” I said cheerfully.

She gave me a stern look, and went back to work.

I made it to my train, and the customer was delighted with his table. But I learned a couple things from this ordeal. First, always get to the station early – you never know what might hold you up. And second, when the baggage check agent asks what’s in your box, just tell him “books.”

Even if you’ve never bought one, you’ve probably heard some talk about energy-efficient bulbs. Fans point out that they use way less electricity than traditional (incandescent) bulbs, last longer, and can save money and help the environment. But a lot of people don’t like them – they say the bulbs are expensive to buy, look weird, and give off an ugly “cold” light. That can be true, but if you know what to look for you can get all the benefits without the downsides.

1. CFL or LED?

From left to right: CFL, A-Shape CFL, and LED

CFL stands for Compact-Fluorescent. These are the most common kind of energy-efficient bulbs, and they work like a miniature version of the fluorescent tubes you see in offices and big stores. A CFL can last 10 times as long as a regular incandescent, and uses less than 20% as much energy! But there’s a big downside: mercury. All fluorescent lightbulbs contain mercury vapor. The mercury can be dangerous if you break a bulb, especially if you cut yourself on the glass. In many areas, it’s illegal to throw the bulbs in the trash. Instead you have to bring them to a recycling center, or drop them off in a special bin at your hardware store. In addition, a lot of CFLs take a few seconds to “warm up” when switched on, and that’s annoying when you’re in a hurry.

LED stands for Light-Emitting Diode. LEDs are used as illumination in lots of electronics, from bicycle headlights to the screens of smartphones. LED bulbs are often more efficient than CFLs, and can last for decades. They’re difficult to break, don’t contain any dangerous chemicals, and can be thrown away in the regular garbage. They’re also much more expensive. Most incorporate a set of fins called a “heat sink” in the base. In the majority of lamps these aren’t visible, but they can look strange on an exposed bulb.

I like LEDs a lot more than CFLs, for the convenience, efficiency, and durability. (Plus I kinda dig the weird look.) But I’d still recommend CFLs, at least until LED bulbs become less expensive. To avoid the safety issues, look for “A-Shape” CFLs. These have a protective glass or plastic dome over the fluorescent coil, which makes them harder to break (and safer to clean up if they do). It also makes them shaped like traditional bulbs, so you can use clip-on lampshades or other old-fashioned accessories.

2. Check the Color Temperature

photo courtesy of Wikipedia

“Color Temperature” is a term physicists use to describe how cold or warm a light is. Ironically, the lower the number, the warmer the light. For example, candlelight has a color temperature of about 1850K, while a computer monitor has a temperature above 5000K. Incandescent lighting is usually around 2700K, the cozy yellowish glow sold as “soft white.”

Don’t let that trick you into thinking an efficient bulb labeled “soft white” will look the same. Since efficient bulbs are naturally cooler than incandescents, it’s easier for manufacturers to call one “soft white” than to get the color right. But all CFL and LED bulbs have their color temperature listed on the packaging. Ignore the marketing, and look for that number. My rule: if it’s over 2700K, don’t buy it.

3. Find your Brand, and Find a Bargain

Efficient bulbs are supposed to save you money, but they won’t if you keep replacing ones you don’t like. Use the recommendations here to find one in your price range, then buy one (just one!) to take for a test drive. Use it for a few days, and even try it in a few different rooms. You want to make sure you like it – and if you don’t, you can always use it in the basement or garage.

Once you’ve found the bulb for you, Google to find the cheapest supplier. You’ll be shocked at how much cheaper most of these are online, even if you’re not buying in bulk. Stick to the same brand and model, since two bulbs that look the same on paper can be very different side-by-side.

Everyone has their own preferences, and these are only guidelines. Some people like a color temperature higher than 2700K; others would rather spend the money on LEDs than deal with recycling CFLs. But if you know what to look for, you can light your house and lighten your electrical bill.