I’ve been building models since I was six years old. That means I’ve been building for about...well...a real long time. I started out with aircraft and car kits and then discovered what would become my favorite genre: fact and fantasy spacecraft.

    I started with sci-fi stuff. My first space kit would be AMT’s venerable Star Trek U.S.S. Enterprise kit, soon followed by the wonderful “real-space” kits by Revell and Monogram. Later on, I discovered the joys of scratch-building sci-fi spacecraft of my own design. Still later, I found a new medium that eventually became a major staple of sci-fi modelers like myself: resin "garage kits", homemade kits manufactured by hobbyists often encompassing subjects that the big companies avoided..

    In the early 1990s, Lunar Models issued their licensed resin kit of the spaceship Discovery from the film 2OO1: A Space Odyssey. Being a big fan of the film (I think I’ve seen it at least once for every time it’s been re-released in theaters) it was only natural that I would get my hands on one.

    Over the years, I’ve met many people who share my enthusiasm for building sci-fi and space models. One thing we also share is a dream (or fantasy) of one day building models for the film industry. Many of us, myself included, have even gone so far as to experiment on our own with film (super 8mm in my case) and video. For most of us, we eventually go back to treating our model building as a part time hobby. A small number of us (also, myself included) become industrial model makers, people who use their skills developed for the hobby to build industrial prototypes for companies that manufacture such things as appliances, cars, medical equipment or, in my case, retail store displays. Usually though, that dream of making models for film remains a dream for most of us.

    In November of 2001, I got e-mail from a friend directing me to the discussion forum at CultTVMan, a web site devoted to modelers of sci-fi, fantasy and space. There was a post by someone who called himself "Butler 3222" that read:
 

    After agonizing about whether my Discovery model was good enough (that took about 2 seconds!) I decided I would e-mail Butler 3222 photos of my model if I could deal with one little obstacle: Butler 3222 didn’t give his e-mail address! So much for my career in film modeling. I then noticed an email in my in-box.

    It was from "Butler 3222," also known as Allan Butler, a producer for the Cronkite-Ward Company (Yes, that Cronkite!), a company that produced documentaries for TV channels such as Discovery, The History Channel and Public Television.

    Turns out that he had already browsed the photo galleries of Starship Modeler, another website with a focus on sci-fi and fantasy spacecraft and found photos of my Discovery model. Not only that, Mr. Butler had already decided that he liked my model and wanted to use it for his  documentary. The decision was mine.

    What was there to decide?

"This Can Only Be Attributable to Human Error."

    By Jan. 25 I had the model all ready to ship with a new clear Plexiglas stand for shooting and a wood crate for shipping. Before I packed it away, I decided to give the lights one last test. As I plugged the model in, I saw a flash from the command room and felt my stomach tie into a knot.

    The lights failed.

    One of the three model railroad bulbs blew. It was bound to happen. By 2002, the model was about eight years old. Normally, replacing the bulbs in a model should be easy. It's just that the bulbs were sealed into the command sphere with no way to get to them. When I built the model, it hadn't occurred to me that I might need to repair the lights if they blew after several years of displaying it at home and at model shows. I didn't anticipate that I would ever actually need to repair the lights inside Discovery.
 
 

    I had to break the model open to replace the blown bulb. The resin pieces, the sphere and the flange behind it came apart pretty much intact. The styrene spacer in between the two parts (see the tutorial), however, got all chewed up in the separation process making some major gluing, puttying and sanding necessary. I then used my airbrush to touch-up the entire back section of the sphere. This was all done during my breaks in the Model Shop where I worked at my day job. I had all the equipment there to fix up the model.

    I finished the entire repair job on Friday, Feb. 1, 2002 and was feeling very pleased with myself. At 4:30 that afternoon, as I'm leaving the Model Shop to take the model home, I'm called in to see my employer's personnel guy.

    I was laid off.

    Well, at least I didn't have trouble finding the time to get to UPS the following Monday.

    Anyone know where a Model Maker with industrial and film experience can find a job?