So I made a list. I thought about it for a few more hours, drank some more coffee, and decided the world deserved to see it. Here it is:

1. Festool CT36. When I bought this thing, the $799 price tag felt like a personal insult. My old Craftsman shopvac cost less than a hundred dollars and worked fine, and here was this German contraption demanding nearly a grand just to suck up sawdust. I thought I’d lost my mind. Now? I use it every single day, not just as a dust extractor but as a regular shop vac, and I cannot imagine operating without it. It is bulletproof. It is versatile. It is more convenient than any other shop vac on the market. It is the kind of machine that makes you realize everything you owned before it was a cheap, temporary lie… It retails at $1000 now and I’d still buy it again if mine broke.

2. The BF/MFT. I built this 4×8 shop table mostly out of curiosity. I knew it would get used on woodworking projects, sure, but I had no idea how deeply satisfying a large format island workbench would become as just a general surface for existing in the shop. If you have the square footage, build one. You will not regret it and you will never go back.

3. Vintage Craftsman Drill Press. Tools from the 1940s make me genuinely happy in a way that is difficult to explain to a normal person. The build quality, the look, the sheer density of the things. But the 103.231.40 earns its place on this list for a simpler reason: it works, and it never stops working. I have no reason to ever own another drill press. This one will outlive me.

4. The Roboreel. This one comes loaded with history. A bunch of us in Austin got sent one to review. I got mine, my friend got his, and then, in a move I still cannot explain through any rational framework, the company’s own representative started talking trash about each of us to the other. Months later the company was dead. Bankrupt. Gone. And yet, in some cosmic joke that the universe apparently thought was very funny, the Roboreel turned out to be one of my favorite things in the entire shop. I use it every day. The company that made it cratered spectacularly and I still cannot stop using the damn thing.

5. Bouton Safety Glasses. Years ago I bought vintage style safety glasses for one reason: I refused to wear the Brian Bosworth eyewear that floods the market. Then I took the Boutons to my optician and had him put my prescription in them. That was about a decade ago. They have given me zero problems, zero reasons to think about them, and that, frankly, is the highest compliment you can pay any piece of equipment. The best gear is the gear you forget you’re wearing.

That’s the list. Things I don’t technically need, but would now find barbaric to live without. You got something like this? Post it. I want to know what you’re running in there.

For the past five years, that something has been the Chaves Knives C.H.U.B. flipper, the black G10 bruiser sitting up top in the photos. It’s been flawless. Not “pretty good.” Flawless. It opens, it cuts, it disappears in the pocket, and somehow, against all odds, I haven’t lost the damned thing.

The problem? It’s a $200 knife. I bought mine in 2021, and since then they’ve been selling out like contraband and vanishing from shelves with no promise of return. That kind of scarcity makes a man nervous.

So the market did what the market always does. First, Chaves rolled out a “Blue Label” version, same bones, cheaper suit, about $100. Then the wolves showed up. Enter the OKnife U1 at a laughable $25.

When I first saw it, I figured it was just another cheap imitation. A photocopy of a photocopy. But curiosity got the better of me, and I ordered one anyway.

And I’ll be damned… it’s not bad.

Not great. Not even close to the Chaves in terms of materials or refinement. But for the money? It’s a scrappy little survivor. Stainless guts, Micarta scales, light in the hand, tight in the action. It flips open with a twitch and locks up with a simple rail system that doesn’t try to impress you. Blade swaps are handled with a thumb screw that actually works, which already puts it ahead of half the junk out there.

The weak link? That pocket clip. Bent stainless. The kind of thing that looks fine until it doesn’t. It hasn’t betrayed me yet, but I don’t trust it. And in this game, trust matters.

They’ve got a few flavors. The standard green Micarta model in the middle (see photos), and the slightly more pricey U1 Pro down below in Ultem, which throws in a tiny magnetic bit driver like a bonus round at the carnival. I haven’t pushed the Pro hard enough yet to say anything meaningful about it.

But I’m done with the standard U1.

So here’s the deal, I’m giving it away. Best comment on this feature takes it. It’s been carried. It’s got scars. I burned a slightly crooked Garage Journal logo into one scale like a drunk branding cattle. I’ll clean it up before it ships, but don’t expect a museum piece.

It’s a tool. And it’s been used like one.

OR, if you would rather… You can buy yours here:

The OKnife U1

The OKnife U1 Pro

Editor’s Note: This is not a sponsorship. I don’t know a single person at OKnife, have never talked to them, and paid for these things with my own damned money.

So… what do I think?

If there’s one thing that matters above all else with any measuring device, it’s trust. If you don’t trust it, it doesn’t matter how many features it has, your work is going to suffer. And the XTAPE1? It leans hard into what feels like witchcraft. Lasers, calculations, angles, stored data… it’s a lot. And magic, at least at first, is hard to trust.

On paper, the thing is absurd. It’s got a traditional 12-foot tape built in, but then it layers on laser measurements, continuous tracking, area and volume calculations, layout tools, angle displays, point-to-point math, indirect measurements… it’ll even split a line into equal segments and store everything you do in an app on your phone. It reads like something built by an engineer that got bored and decided to throw the entire toolbox into one device.

And here’s the kicker, most of it actually works. Really well.

But none of that matters if you don’t trust it.

Early on, I was cutting sheet goods using the XTAPE1 as my guide. I’d set the measurement, mark off the laser, and then just stand there staring at the line like it was about to betray me. Inevitably, I’d grab a traditional tape, double check it, and make a second mark just a hair off from the first.

Every single time, the XTAPE1 was right. My “backup” mark was the one introducing error.

That happened enough times that I started to let go a bit. Slowly. And that’s really the story here. Whether it’s point-to-point measurements, indirect height, or just basic tape work, this thing is incredibly accurate. But you have to give yourself time to believe it.

Once you do, it’s a game changer.

It’s quicker, easier, and strips away a lot of the hassle from measurements that used to require a second set of hands or a bunch of extra steps. The battery life borders on absurd, I haven’t touched a charger in over two months, and it just sits there doing its job without ever making a fuss.

There are plenty of videos out there walking through every feature in detail. I’m not going to rehash all of that. What I will say is this: if you pick one up, take the time to learn it, and more importantly, give yourself enough reps to trust it.

Because once that switch flips, this thing is legitimately awesome. Buy yours here.

And because I know someone is gonna ask, here’s a quick list of all the shit the XTAPE1 is capable of:

Traditional Tape Measurement:

Twelve feet of honest steel hiding inside the machine, marked up like a prison wall calendar. Big hook on the end with a magnet strong enough to grab onto anything ferrous and refuse to let go.

Single Length Measurement:

Point the green beam like a weapon and tap the blue arrow. One shot, one number. No ceremony. The distance appears instantly, cold and factual, like a verdict handed down from a judge who doesn’t care about your excuses.

Continuous Measurement:

Now we’re moving. This thing updates every 0.3 seconds as you walk, pace, stumble, or lurch toward your target. Numbers rolling like a slot machine. No waiting. No second chances. Just constant feedback while you try to keep up.

Area Calculation:

Square footage for the impatient. Shoot two lines, tape or laser, doesn’t matter. Lock them in and the machine does the math while you stand there pretending you were going to calculate it yourself. Perimeter, square feet, square inches… all laid out like a confession.

Volume Calculation:

Same deal, but now you’re thinking in three dimensions. Length, width, height. Add the third number and suddenly you’re measuring space itself. The device spits out volume like it’s nothing, while you nod along like you saw it coming.

Stake Out:

This is layout work for people who don’t trust eyeballs. Set your points, walk the line, and let the machine keep you honest. No drifting. No guessing. Just precise, repeatable marks in a world full of sloppy geometry.

Live Angle Display:

Tilt it, twist it, spin it like a man losing control. The green laser becomes your horizon and the screen tracks every degree in real time. It’s like carrying a digital level that never blinks and never forgives.

Point to Point:

Two targets. One calculation. The XTAPE1 figures the distance between them, your position, and the angle tying it all together. Three numbers on the screen like coordinates to something important… or incriminating.

Indirect Height:

You can’t get there directly? No problem. Measure the hypotenuse, grab the angle, and let the machine tell you the horizontal distance. It’s geometry for people who skipped class but still want to win.

Indirect Length:

Top and bottom readings, two hypotenuse measurements, one angle tying them together. The machine stitches it all into a vertical dimension while you stand there wondering why you ever trusted ladders.

1/N Line Split Function:

Set your interval and let the tape run. Hit your mark and the machine breaks the line into perfect segments like a drill sergeant dividing recruits. Clean splits. No guessing. No drifting. Just order imposed on chaos.

***

If you are interested, you can get yours here.

Then I noticed the shears.

Tiny, almost dainty little Knipex bastards, barely bigger than what your grandmother uses at her sewing machine. The man was running them through wire after wire, fat gauge stuff, the kind of cable that that I’d be using my largest dikes on, and they were going through it like warm butter. I couldn’t stay quiet. I had to know.

He didn’t answer. He just grinned the grin of a man who knows something you don’t, and tossed the shears across the bench at me along with a fistful of scrap wire.

Three cuts. That’s all it took. Three cuts on 4 AWG wire and something in my brain clicked permanently into place. I was buying a pair before the fourth piece of scrap hit the floor.

Nobody paid me to say this. Holy shit, buy these things.

Get yours here.

I don’t run a full-blown Smart Home because, frankly, I like my house dumb. Just about every “convenience” I’ve added over the years has turned into some kind of digital tantrum when the Wi-Fi farts. So I needed something simple, reliable, and most importantly – something that, when it screws up, just gets the hell out of the way.

After a bit of research and some whiskey-fueled scrolling, I landed on the Meross Smart Opener. It’s basically a little brick about the size of a deck of cards that bolts onto your existing garage setup and gives it a brain.

Installation? Idiot-proof. Took maybe ten minutes, and that includes hunting down a screwdriver at my mom’s house. The app setup took longer, but even that wasn’t bad. I tied it into HomeKit so my mom can open her garage from her phone, her car using CarPlay, or her voice – whatever mood strikes her. And if it dies? The wall button still works. The beauty of simplicity, right there.

Anyway, I’m bringing this up because the damn thing’s on sale for Prime Day… thirty percent off. Less than forty-five bucks to make your garage smarter than half the people in your HOA. Hard to beat that.

Details here.

Then Mileseey threw me a curveball: the new S50. Supposedly a hotshot accuracy monster with a green laser bright enough to blind a squirrel, four reference points, dead-on within a sixteenth at 400 feet, slick IPS screen, and a battery system so clever you can run it on AAs or the USB-C rechargeables it ships with. Fantastic marketing fluff.

But goddamn… IT WORKS. First test was my office alcove where I wanted a desk. Tape said about 3’ 9 and 31/32”. The S50 said the exact same thing. Not close. Exact.

Next, I needed the length of a roof section on my lab for a gutter. Normally that’s a two-man, two-ladder circus. With the S50? Set the laser on one point, push a button, aim it at the other point, push again and… BOOM. Spits out a distance within a sixteenth. No sweat, no cussing, and no ladders needed.

And if you’re hopping around measuring ten different things, don’t worry about losing the numbers. This little bastard syncs to your phone, logs them all, and even lets you label each one.

I’m sure this thing has a hundred other tricks buried in its guts, but I’ll never know. I’m no power user and that’s actually the beauty of it. The S50 is stupid easy to run. I never cracked the manual, just mashed buttons until it all clicked, and five minutes later I was measuring like I’d been born with the damned thing in my hand. Intuitive, fast, no bullshit.

I mean, I rarely get excited about free swag from tool companies. Usually it’s junk that ends up in the Goodwill pile. But the Mileseey S50? This one’s different. It’s black magic in your pocket, and for $140 it’s pretty cheap sorcery… Hell if I know what the laser-measuring market looks like, but this one feels worth every dime.

Anyway, details here.

I’ve always believed that if you make something worth a damn, you don’t need to shove it down people’s throats. Good work speaks for itself and word of mouth travels faster and hits harder than spam on a little forum like ours ever will.

Every now and then though, one of these folks actually gets me to look past the pitch and pay attention to the product. “Rich’s Garage” is one of those cases.

He’s selling something called the Tool Swing. The idea itself isn’t new, guys have been making swing-out platforms for bench tools forever. Most are DIY jobs, though I’m sure a few companies have tried to sell them before.

What makes Rich’s version stand out is a couple of things. First, it looks stout… built from heavy-gauge steel with oversized hardware. Second, his videos show him beating the hell out of these things, and the platform barely flexes more than the bench it’s bolted to. That says something.

Now, I’ve never owned or even seen a Tool Swing in person. But there’s something respectable about a working guy building and selling a tool he finds useful in his own shop. That, I can get behind.

That said, I still can’t get behind self-promotion on our forums. Don’t take this as an invitation—it’s an exception. Rich made something I think some of you might actually find useful.

Anyway, here is a quick video on how they work:

If this intrigues you at all and you’d like to get your hands on one, Rich is offering Garage Journal members a discount on various models:

The Tool Swing Grinder: Use coupon code “tool30” during checkout to get it for $230 plus free shipping.

The Tool Swing HD For 10″ vices: Use coupon code “tool65” to get it for $330 plus free shipping.

Otherwise, you can learn more about the vice and its features here.

Editor’s Note: If you haven’t been here long enough to know, I don’t do paid reviews and don’t sell my editorial. In other words, Rich didn’t pay me for this feature. I did this on my own and with my own free will.

Yeah, I know. But if they fit your ears right and your brain doesn’t rebel against the noise-canceling voodoo, they just disappear. No pressure, no bulk, just quiet and clarity while the chaos rages around you.

But here’s the catch—you need the Pro model for proper noise canceling, and they’re not exactly built for shop abuse. Dust, metal shavings, and random acts of violence tend to chew up dainty tech like this. So you really have to want that functionality to justify the usual $250–$300 price tag.

Now here’s the kicker: AirPods Pro 3 are on the way, and with Prime Day rolling in like a freight train, the Pro 2s have dropped to $150. I bought two pairs—just in case the world catches on fire again and I need a backup.

Use at your own risk. Details here.

“Wrong guy,” I told them. I don’t own anything new enough to need one. My shop is where computers go to die.

They sent it anyway.

And that’s when the universe winked. A buddy rolled in driving a Porsche 996—German, computerized, and offended by the concept of simplicity. The check engine light was glowing like the devil’s eye. So I thought, “Hell with it,” and plugged in the Innova 5610. Nothing. Flatline. The scanner couldn’t make sense of the Porsche protocol—couldn’t even get past hello. A total failure. I cursed the whole ordeal, boxed the thing up, taped it shut, and flung it into the back of my truck like radioactive waste headed for disposal.

Then, a week later, my phone rang.

My daughter was stranded at the gym in her Bronco Sport. Wouldn’t start. I ran down there with my trusty Noco Jump Box, got it started, and realized I was eyeballs deep in another 21st-century electronics nightmare. The dash was lit up like a Christmas tree with warning lights. And then I remembered… that scanner’s still in the bed of the truck.

I fished it out, plugged it in, and this time—miracle of miracles—it sang. The 5610 got along just fine with the Ford, fed me a clear list of codes, and gently suggested some sort of low voltage situation. I then noticed a “battery test” function on the main menu and clicked on it. After a series of steps, I was told the battery wasn’t accepting a charge as it should.

Lucky for me, I was parked across from an O’Reilly’s. I confirmed the diagnosis with their clunky in-house tester, bought a new battery, and began the ritual disassembly of the Bronco’s engine bay to get the old battery out—in a YMCA parking lot, sweating, swearing, and thinking about weed and whiskey. Cuz that’s where we are these days fellas…

Look, I’m not the guy you want reviewing diagnostic gear. I’m more at home with a vacuum gauge than a firmware update. But I can tell you this: I didn’t read the directions, I didn’t know what I was doing, and the Innova still made sense from nonsense. It told me what I needed to know when I needed it—and that’s more than I can say for half the people in my life.

It costs $350. Maybe that’s cheap. Maybe it’s highway robbery. Doesn’t matter. It got me through the fire and let me look like a hero to my daughter. That’s worth something.

Hell, I might even keep the thing. So props to you Innova – I appreciate this little glowing idiot box more than even you thought I would.

More details of the thing here.

***

UPDATE: We’ve partnered with Innova Electronics to bring an exclusive deal to the GarageJournal community.

The Offer:

• Product: Innova 5610 Bidirectional OBD2 Scanner (Use This Link)
• Discount: 15% OFF on Amazon
• Coupon Code: INNOVA5610GJ

PLUS, a FREE Bonus for GJ Members:

With your purchase, you’ll receive two free tools (a $200 total value!):

1. FREE Innova Circuit Tester ($100 Value)
2. FREE Innova Inspection Camera Borescope ($100 Value)

How to Redeem:

1. Purchase the Innova 5610 on Amazon using code INNOVA5610GJ.
2. Send a Private Message (PM) to the user “Innova“ on the forum.
3. In the PM, provide your Amazon Order #, Full Name, Shipping Address, and Phone Number.

They will ship the two free devices directly to you. Enjoy!

Then XTool sent me the P2S—a 55W CO2 laser with a 600x305mm bed. It showed up on my doorstep, and within an hour of the UPS truck disappearing down the street, I had it unboxed, set up, and humming. A few YouTube tutorials, some scrap Baltic birch, and suddenly I’m out here pretending I know what the hell I’m doing.

And I’m not kidding—it’s quickly become one of the most productive tools in my shop. I’ve used it for silly little boxes, custom tools, one-off prototypes, leather working, engraving experiments—you name it. Every morning I wake up with a new idea, a new possibility, a new rabbit hole to chase.

It’s stupidly easy to use. It’s fast. It’s almost silent. It doesn’t throw dust everywhere. It doesn’t stink up the shop. It just works.

From what I’ve gathered, XTool is kind of the Apple of the desktop laser world. Their units are typically more expensive per watt, their ecosystem is typically less inclusive, and they have built their own world so to speak. But, it might also be the smoothest, most idiot-proof entry into a new tool I’ve ever experienced. So much so that I’ve already started looking for a fiber laser to park next to it.

Feels like I opened a damn portal, fellas… And I’m really excited to jump into it head first.

In any case, I made a little video of a Brillo Box “art” project I just finished up. I think this might be a part 1 of 2 as the P2S can also cut screens for screen printing and I’ve always wanted to make my own repro… But who knows, the projects are stacking up.

You can learn more about the XTool P2S here. And if you do get one, I highly recommend you spring for the riser kit as well. All of it comes extremely well packed and is made like a brick shit house…

Anyway, if you have any questions… fire away. I will answer em all to the best that my newbie abilities allow.