My dad was a machinist when he was younger. My siblings and I grew up with a well-equipped home shop, including a table saw, a drill press, a milling machine, and my dad's pride and joy: a two ton metal lathe. He drilled into us the importance of safety for all the tools, but the most vivid lesson was the story about the drill press: When he began his apprenticeship, he noticed a large photo on the wall of the shop of a long pale stringy thing. He asked what it was. It was a tendon which had been yanked out of the arm of someone whose hand got caught in a drill press. I still think about that whenever I use a drill press.