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nookishposts · 5 years

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Ode to a Knife

Tomboy from the word go, I was fascinated by gadgets and tools right out of the womb. My first 1964 transistor radio, with ear piece, 4 inch antenna and 9 volt battery just begged to have the back pried off and the guts removed with less than surgical precision, in order to get some idea of how it worked. Putting it back together was rarely successful, so I hid it in the barn until I could figure out how, or at least find someone non-parental to do so, with sealed lips. Ditto with the Easy Bake Oven, the limbs and heads of every doll, the whirling top that shot sparks when you pushed the knob on top, and the chain of my first bicycle. The “uh-oh” rarely dawned until I was happily surrounded by cracked or greasy bits and pieces.

But my favourite gadget to this very day remains my trusty Swiss Army knife. I bought it with babysitting money when I was 13, for $15.00 at the local sporting goods store where I hemmed and hawed over special features versus cash reality. The one I chose didn’t come with the nifty spoon and fork of the really high-end models, but it had several blades, a corkscrew, tweezers, a saw, bottle opener, scissors and a hole punch. I knew it was destined to be mine when the sales clerk removed it from the cabinet for me to examine, I opened the main blade, and immediately cut myself. The first of many important lessons that knife has taught me. We were made for one another.

The weight of that knife in the pocket of my shorts made me feel like ‘all that and a bag of chips’. Before I understood the damage I was doing, I carved my initials in trees and table tops and desks and porches like I was seeking immortality. Camping with the family took on a whole new dimension. Need a marshmallow roasting stick with a fine point? Replacing a busted tent peg? A branch with notches on either end to string a bow for shooting arrows? Remove a splinter from your thumb? Shorten your beach-destined Daisy Dukes another inch while your Mum isn’t looking?(Cut my own way too short once and lived with the mistake, knees stapled together, for an entire summer). Rest assured, my SA knife and I had you covered.

I made holes to string up a flattened plastic bag with thin vines for a makeshift roof on a rainy hike. I cut down more than one Charlie Brown Christmas tree. Opened a bazillion pop bottles, beer bottles, cassette tapes, rusted locks, stuck cabinets, and heavily-taped boxes. I kept it pristine. Was certain I could perform surgery in the deep woods with only dental floss and a bottle of whiskey if called upon to do so.I recall feeling so very mature when I used the corkscrew to uncork my first bottle of Moody Blue, Lonesome Charlie, Alpenweisse, or Blue Nun at a bush party. That knife went all the way to Australia with me, safe in the perfect-sized pocket of my rucksack, for easy access. Can’t do that anymore. Wouldn’t make it past security let alone onto the plane. It still feels like I have forgotten something when I have to leave it at home to travel. (Yes, it can go into cargo, but I pride myself on one carry-on bag, always.)

Of course it got used for stupid stuff too. There’s a scene in Fried Green Tomatoes where George and Julian go with Idgie to rescue Ruth from her abusive husband,and George calmly trims his fingernails with a rather menacing knife that appears out of nowhere, as the husbands attempts an objection. The sight of the knife stops him cold. I once did kinda the same thing when out with a girlfriend at an event in Toronto; we were leaving the dance and some straight male thugs decided we would be fun to harass. There I was, maybe 20 years old, with a pitiful 4 inch blade opened, custom-fit in the hand I hung at my side, standing calmly between my girlfriend and the potential for real trouble. They got in my face a little, yelled some disgusting slurs, and I didn’t move a muscle or say a word. When they walked off, I nearly collapsed with relief on the sidewalk. The girlfriend told me what an idiot I had been. She was right. It was the only time in 45 years I ever considered my knife a weapon.

This morning I was using that same knife, the little white shield logo worn almost invisible by 45 years in my hands, to dig out dandelions in the front yard. I leave the dandelions for the bees until other blossoms pop, then I just thin them as best I can to keep the yard tidy. Our house is for sale and though I don’t care about a pristine lawn, first impressions from the street are everything. As I was poking into the damp earth, trying to avoid stabbing worms, slicing the stubborn stems and tossing them into a paper bag, I found myself thinking about how long it took me to earn fifteen dollars in 1974, how many times I taught a wee one to play checkers, how many diaper changes, how many yawning attempts to stay awake until grateful parents returned home at 2 am a little too inebriated to drive me home. I vaguely remember charging 75 cents an hour and a dollar after midnight or something like that. So, let’s say 20 hrs to earn knife money. A couple of years later I would work a lot longer and harder to buy my first guitar. I still have that one too.

I don’t live on a farm anymore, nor do I hike and camp as much as I once did. So my Swiss army knife lays nearly-but-not-quite forgotten much of the time. It still has it’s place in my knapsack, but is more likely to be used to trim a loose thread or a flower stem than any act of serious practicality or derring-do. I have real carving tools for any kind of small woodworking projects I may undertake of a quiet evening on the back porch. It’s not at all the same as sitting staring into a late-night, mesmerising campfire, whittling away at a stick with the same knife I probably used to cut and butter my toast that morning, and to clean the fish for supper after a day in the canoe.

Our immediate future may well involve some acreage and daily chores involving twine, bags of seeds and feed, maybe field-mending a loop to keep a pen gate closed. My denim shorts come cut no higher than my knees now, with deep pockets for secateurs, soft leather work gloves, and the right-sized Swiss Army knife. With some care and a little luck, we might get another 45 years together, and the tiny scar on my right thumb will continue to remind me that even the most-loved and most familiar tools must always be carried with respect.

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artistcaptainbendy · 7 years

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When was the moment George and Harold became friends with SP Krupp?

That’s another great question get ready for a long answer my friend

George and Harold were setting in the principal office after being sent for another one of their pranks.“do you boys know why your here? because i forget” asked krupp “ no reason we were just leaving ” said George. “oh ok bye boys ” krupp said happily while waving bye. The boys began going to the door. krupp was still waving in till “ oh wait a minute I remember now your here because you did something now come back to your seats boys” the boys sighed and went back to their seat.“now boys i have been yelled at by people who work with me to do something about you even if i dont get what your doing wrong and i know is that their umm whats that word its not happy?” “angry ” said George “nah im sure thats not it I’ll get back to that later all i know is that they want me to do something about you planks or was it pranks oh yea your planks so im sorry but i must poem you ” said krupp “ poem us?” harold asked confused krupp replied “ yes oh wait no punish is the word i was looking for i have to punish you two so as punishment for your planks your going to spend the rest of the day with meat i mean me right yea i think thats what a meant ” the boys looked confused at the punishment their principal pinked for them" now i know you kids love to get that stuff that makes your brains go i mean that glasses kid loves it so keeping you from your classes is a great punishment for you “ krupp said harold still confused respond ” um mr.krupp th-“ George cuts him off” thats a great punishment for us" “it is” krupp said happily “it is?” said harold “ yes it is” George winks at Harold “ oh yea it is we love learning so keeping us from it really sucks ” said harold “ good this punishment will teach you boys to not lick doors ” said krupp. The lunch bell rings “ oh lunch time I love lunch time I get to see the rockets fly away even if they don’t do that anymore ” krupp reaches behind his desk and grabs a lunch bag (it was a box with words'lunch spell badly on it" The boys took their lunches out peanut butter and gummy worms sandwiches for George and tuna salad with chocolate chip and miniature marshmallows for harold before they even took bite of their sandwiches the boys were shocked to see their principal eating a combination of both their sandwiches. George asked “is that peanut butter and gummy worms ” harold continued “ mixed with tuna salad with chocolate chip and miniature marshmallows?” k. rupp answer “ yea you want one i made umm more then one and other things too” The boys looked in krupp’s box and saw bags of candy and mixtures of sweets with sodas “ wow” said both boys “ you eat this for lunch?” asked George “ yea well not all the time i usually have way more soda but i was in a rush today ” answered krupp “ amazing ” harold said amazed “ i dont know why you two are acting like this to a normal lunch but if two mind not im going to watch that box with the talking tiny people ” krupp said while getting up and getting the tv. “ you watch tv too?” asked harold. krupp replied “yep i love watching movies with those big things all stomping around and and yelling things like rawr im big fear me hehe if you want you can watch with me” “sure” said the boys as they grab some soda and candy and sat down with their principal after a hour the lunch bell rang again. “ i guess lunch time is over and i didnt get to see rockets go off oh well at least o got to see this movie ” “yeah” said Harold “this movie is great” said George “ oh i just remember after i have paper work to do and you boys can help me with it” krupp said happily “ oh great paperwork ” said George sadden by that fact their day was going back to being boring. once the movie was done krupp got up and grab a big stack of papers and put it on the desk" ok boys are you ready for some paperwork?“ "yeah” said the boys with a sad tone" great grab some paper" said krupp while grabing some papers. The boys grab some papers and pens and before they began writing they saw their principal folding the papers into hats and boats" umm mr. krupp what are you doing?“ asked George krupp replied ” im doing paper work silly what does it look like im doing?“ the boys didnt respond and just looked at each other and smile” nothing wrong at all" said harold as they folded the papers into hats and many other things, after two hours for paperwork, making comics, and helping their principal with the paper cut he got while making a paper dolphins for harold, the boys really enjoying their time with the principal after spending another hour reading the comic to their principal the bell to end the day rang" oh i guess its time to go back to those places we live in “ said krupp a little sad’ ” yeah" said the boys sadden too “ well i guess i’ll see you the day after this one or after the weekend” said krupp" its Tuesday mr.krupp" said Harold “oh it is? hm so its almost the weekend just a day away hmm well i’ll see you the next day boys” krupp said “bye ” both boys said before leaving George then stop and turned to krupp and said" umm actually i dont think we learned own lesson yet" “ we didnt?” said Harold “ no we didnt” George winks at Harold “ oh yea we didn’t learn own lesson i still like doing pranks” said Harold agreeing. krupp looked confused and then surprised “ oh ok then it seems you two didnt learn your lesson so the day after this you come right to my office ” “ ok” the boys said happily before leaving “ bye boys” said krupp as he was waving to them.“…… tomorrow thats the word i was looking for right? hmm maybe”

#captain underpants #smartypants au

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