Dr. Tad Hussein Winslow
member
- Joined
- Nov 14, 2007
- Messages
- 13,146
Tee Hee....Sounds to me like life / sport is gooooooood.
You geez.... ummm, old-timers are crazy!!! 
Chaps my behind
- Thread starter Okiecruffler
- Start date
- Status
Tee Hee....Sounds to me like life / sport is gooooooood.
You geez.... ummm, old-timers are crazy!!! sm
member
I've always been crazy - keeps me from going insane. -Waylon Jennings
The Tourist
member
Steve, actually this is part of THR that I love the best. It's getting to the point that the niggling and arguing are just bringing me low. I want to feel good about the life that I live.
I believe that if you dug out the old "mission statement" about THR you'd find a parallel idea.
(I just asked the mod of another forum to "ban" me for thirty days as a silent protest against some strident childish behavior I could no longer tolerate.)
You are dead right about time and stories and lineage. That SharpFinger will be handed down with a tale about guys, who have never met, and how in the end values are really the best thing.
Okie can buy a knife if needed, Trapper find a hunting or caping knife at any distributor, I can sharpen in my sleep--that's not the point.
Several years ago a violent tornado hit a local town called Stoughton. There was a traffic problem that required the services of the local PD and The dane County Sheriff.
Not gawkers or looters, but common citizens bringing in water, food, clothing, chainsaws and sweat equity to remove trash. I got there mid morning of the day after, and found my friend's home leveled to the foundation. He was gone to a hospital to stitch up a bad head wound.
But as I got out of my truck with a pallet of bottled water, several neighbors from the home's foundation came to take a break and a drink. They had been there since daybreak, I was the one who was late.
Later in the week, a farmer in Waukeshaw--a community about 60 miles from the tornado's path--called to say he had found their daughter's wedding dress in the drycleaner's bag. At his own expense he traced the return address and ate the return shipping.
I enjoy the life of a rough, tough biker, I truly do. But truth be told, there's not enough chrome in the world that balances out the feeling of doing right, of being a good citizen.
I was proud to sharpen Okie and Trapper's knife. It was a privilege.
I believe that if you dug out the old "mission statement" about THR you'd find a parallel idea.
(I just asked the mod of another forum to "ban" me for thirty days as a silent protest against some strident childish behavior I could no longer tolerate.)
You are dead right about time and stories and lineage. That SharpFinger will be handed down with a tale about guys, who have never met, and how in the end values are really the best thing.
Okie can buy a knife if needed, Trapper find a hunting or caping knife at any distributor, I can sharpen in my sleep--that's not the point.
Several years ago a violent tornado hit a local town called Stoughton. There was a traffic problem that required the services of the local PD and The dane County Sheriff.
Not gawkers or looters, but common citizens bringing in water, food, clothing, chainsaws and sweat equity to remove trash. I got there mid morning of the day after, and found my friend's home leveled to the foundation. He was gone to a hospital to stitch up a bad head wound.
But as I got out of my truck with a pallet of bottled water, several neighbors from the home's foundation came to take a break and a drink. They had been there since daybreak, I was the one who was late.
Later in the week, a farmer in Waukeshaw--a community about 60 miles from the tornado's path--called to say he had found their daughter's wedding dress in the drycleaner's bag. At his own expense he traced the return address and ate the return shipping.
I enjoy the life of a rough, tough biker, I truly do. But truth be told, there's not enough chrome in the world that balances out the feeling of doing right, of being a good citizen.
I was proud to sharpen Okie and Trapper's knife. It was a privilege.
Okiecruffler
Member
Why can't there be more threads like this instead of "Who's more tackycool than who" and "what gun for giant zombie grizzlies riding armor plated spiders"?
I remember a time when I would spend an hour a day going over every thread on this board. Now I only hit the shotgun board daily, the general handgun board occasionally. Seems everytime someone post about a new gun they bought there's a line of people waiting to tell them what a POS they fell for.
I think the internet is causing great harm to this world. It's become to easy to be rude and insulting. I'm not too old (my bones disagree with me on this) but I was raised by my elders. And I learned that a man didn't insult another lightly. Insults were often answered swiftly and with great malice. I remember when my grandfather was teaching me grace and manners and I would ask why I should do something, his answer was always the same. "Because that's what a man is." And society didn't ask you to ask forgiveness for being a man. You gentlemen are men, and it's good to know you.
I remember a time when I would spend an hour a day going over every thread on this board. Now I only hit the shotgun board daily, the general handgun board occasionally. Seems everytime someone post about a new gun they bought there's a line of people waiting to tell them what a POS they fell for.
I think the internet is causing great harm to this world. It's become to easy to be rude and insulting. I'm not too old (my bones disagree with me on this) but I was raised by my elders. And I learned that a man didn't insult another lightly. Insults were often answered swiftly and with great malice. I remember when my grandfather was teaching me grace and manners and I would ask why I should do something, his answer was always the same. "Because that's what a man is." And society didn't ask you to ask forgiveness for being a man. You gentlemen are men, and it's good to know you.
sm
member
Because:
-Society has allowed itself to be dumbed down.
-Parents do not parent, and folks do not mentor.
-Kids are not being raised right, instead indoctrinated with lies and tyranny.
-Folks want so bad to be matriculated into a community, any community, be it firearms, motorcycles, knives, or cooking or...anything.
-Gurus need Groupies , and Groupies need Gurus.
-So they play each other, and parrot information in hopes of being part of a community.
They did not have someone to show them how to use a knife, shoot a .22 single shot, let them sit on a motorcycle or let them cook.
Gubmint said, they knew how to raise a kid better, and the selfish piece of feces called parents, let the Gubmint raise the kids.
Besides, the Parents , Mentors, have their own "ME-ME" disease, and have to play Groupie to some folks.
Slip the kids a Twenty, send their butts to the mall and get out of their hair!
So we have a person, raised old school, parented, mentored and knows about guns, knives, manners, respect and they are talked down to, get nasty PMs and everything.
WE got a gal or guy on teh Intrawebz , that only knew come here from sic 'em about guns 3 years ago.
They use correct grammar, spelling, and their feces don't stink as they are better than everyone else.
They got Gurus, and certificates to prove it too!
They ain't seen the gates of hell or smelled the brimstone.
Membership is free, initiation is a sumbitch!
When this person shares, they are passing on invaluable information from life experiences.
They pass forward, as it is not about them, instead you!
When the Guru or groupie shares, it is about them, not you, them.
Okie's son will ask : Daddy, how come a 311 side by side shotgun?
Okie: Because your eyes are like "OO" and not stacked one atop the other like "8".
There will be a "oh daddy!" and some ribbing, then the serious part of gun fit, straight stocks, driven birds, pattern boards and all.
Son: Daddy, how come a Sharpfinger?
Okie: Shares the blade steel , blade design and tool for task.
Trapper and The Tourist may meet Okie's son one day.
Son: Nice to meet you sir!
Trapper / The Tourist : "You don't have to call me sir"
Son: Yes sir
Trapper / The Tourist : I said you don't have to call me sir.
Son: Yes sir, yes, err...oh phooey! Just how I was raised sir...oh darn, I did it again...
How raised- what you do. Mentors
The Tourist
member
LOL. But ya' know, I'll bet there are guys right here how for the life of them cannot figure out all of the fun we're having.
Some mornings I literally drag getting up. But not this morning! I had errands to run! I had dogs to feed! I had to check the 'net! Fire up the Harley! I had to get to the UPS store! I was part of something bigger than just me!
Okay, so the earth ain't spinning faster than before, makes no difference.
But I do understand why some of these celebrities keep a level head while some just drown themselves in liquor.
Pitt and Connick are spending part of their fortunes, and never to recoup the loss, to live for something. The direction or even the cause might mean very little. But it sure is nice to look forward for a change.
I hope we start a little fire. I know Okie, Trapper and I won't forget this. I know that sm has some knives and ideas--and a head of steam. I know I haven't had a cross word in a forum in a few days.
Remember how this started, "Chaps my behind." Now everyone is goofy.
Imagine next week, when the package is delivered...
Some mornings I literally drag getting up. But not this morning! I had errands to run! I had dogs to feed! I had to check the 'net! Fire up the Harley! I had to get to the UPS store! I was part of something bigger than just me!
Okay, so the earth ain't spinning faster than before, makes no difference.
But I do understand why some of these celebrities keep a level head while some just drown themselves in liquor.
Pitt and Connick are spending part of their fortunes, and never to recoup the loss, to live for something. The direction or even the cause might mean very little. But it sure is nice to look forward for a change.
I hope we start a little fire. I know Okie, Trapper and I won't forget this. I know that sm has some knives and ideas--and a head of steam. I know I haven't had a cross word in a forum in a few days.
Remember how this started, "Chaps my behind." Now everyone is goofy.
Imagine next week, when the package is delivered...
Dave McCracken
Moderator In Memoriam
Threads like this are a nice antidote to those that show pics of a brand new looking shotgun with plenty of bling and no wear marks.
Or when I'm explaining for the jillionth time why a shotgun sans real stock and not fired from the shoulder is a problem, not a solution.
Or the ones where folks dump on other's choices big time.
Thanks.....
Or when I'm explaining for the jillionth time why a shotgun sans real stock and not fired from the shoulder is a problem, not a solution.
Or the ones where folks dump on other's choices big time.
Thanks.....
sixgunner455
Member
- Joined
- Aug 25, 2006
- Messages
- 3,052
As Steve and I discussed the other day, threads like this, the people who make them, are the reason I still come here. The reason.
sm
member
Okies's original post, expresses the feelings of countless others.
Knives were tools proven, and the consumer dictated what manufactures made.
These knives had character and soul from the fact the mfg listened to what wanted.
More character and soul was added by the people, memories, and dawgs attached to that knife.
Old Timer made Sharpfingers, Gunboat Trappers...here in the USA.
Zebco was originally Zero Bomb Corporation, and out of Tulsa, OK.
MBAs and Marketing folks, have no idea today, as they were not a itch in their daddy's britches , when a parent, or mentor took kids out with Old Timers, Zebco fishing reels and rods and some old Vet spoke of bombing raids and Zero Bomb sights is what he used in his job, to preserve Freedom.
This would be like some child in Switzerland getting a "Swiss Army Knife" and it being made in another country...
That child in Germany getting a Boker, or Hen & Rooster made in another country...
No.
That child has a right to have what his parents come up with, and be passed forward to, with those knives, make in country of origin.
Manufactures are about them, not the consumer.
They are going to make a knife and you are going to buy it!
The steel they use, is easier on their equipment, and they get a better price on it.
Marketing does a little razzle-dazzle and folks not raised right, as their parents and mentors did not raise them correctly, as they fell for the dumbing down and all themselves...
Are prey as John Ruskin shared:
There is hardly anything some man cannot make cheaper and sell for less; and those whom purchase based on price alone, are this man's prey.
Creative Marketing.
Shotguns...
Okie runs a 311.
I had my kind serve in Vietnam run 311s
They also carried Ithaca 37s, Model 97, 870, USGI 1911, BHPS...
Old Timer, Camillus, Case , Hen&Rooster, Boker knives as well.
Some were some real deal serious "we were never there" types.
They traveled light, ran hard , ran fast.
One close bud, and his, carried BHPs, and cut away holsters to make them lighter.
He carried and used 311s and 37s.
Screw the gawd damn wannabes!
Charlie had some folks in a pit, with a wood /bamboo lattice "cell door".
He and his went in...
You don't understand, they were going in before these Soldiers were moved.
Support was going to have run and hard to catch up...
13 y/o kid tossed the first glass bottle with a lit rag and fuel...
My bud was not the only southern boy that could shoot a shotgun.
He shot that firebomb before it could land into that pit with POWs.
His next shot killed the kid, break gun, insert two , and repeat...
His bud was running a Ithaca 37, and it was shotgun against folks tossing firebombs going into that pit with POWs.
The tossers were hidden, all one saw was the firebomb being lobbed.
Reality does not have a buzzer that says "go".
Nor does one get to yell "pull"
No do overs, no class rankings, ...instead survive or death.
BHPs, were running and gunning...
My buddy was carrying a Barehead Slimline Trapper , his bud with the 37 a Camillus Stockman.
With these they cut the rope to get that cell door open.
No hi-tech shotguns, no fuzzy dice, curb feelers...
No hi-tech steel blades, no marketing just folks that knew a tool and how to use them.
Zippo..."The GI's Friend" was used to light that smoke for the folks captive, now free.
You cannot put a value on a Old Timer, Camillus, Case, 311, 37, BHP...
It is damn disrespectful to market some tools today as they are.
Honor, Integrity and Respect is earned.
You cannot promote, or market these, you gotta earn it.
Maybe that explains why Okie is chapped.
Why Dave gets chapped about shotgun owners.
Chaps me, and others around here as well.
That is why TrapperReady and The Tourist did what they did.
Knives were tools proven, and the consumer dictated what manufactures made.
These knives had character and soul from the fact the mfg listened to what wanted.
More character and soul was added by the people, memories, and dawgs attached to that knife.
Old Timer made Sharpfingers, Gunboat Trappers...here in the USA.
Zebco was originally Zero Bomb Corporation, and out of Tulsa, OK.
MBAs and Marketing folks, have no idea today, as they were not a itch in their daddy's britches , when a parent, or mentor took kids out with Old Timers, Zebco fishing reels and rods and some old Vet spoke of bombing raids and Zero Bomb sights is what he used in his job, to preserve Freedom.
This would be like some child in Switzerland getting a "Swiss Army Knife" and it being made in another country...
That child in Germany getting a Boker, or Hen & Rooster made in another country...
No.
That child has a right to have what his parents come up with, and be passed forward to, with those knives, make in country of origin.
Manufactures are about them, not the consumer.
They are going to make a knife and you are going to buy it!
The steel they use, is easier on their equipment, and they get a better price on it.
Marketing does a little razzle-dazzle and folks not raised right, as their parents and mentors did not raise them correctly, as they fell for the dumbing down and all themselves...
Are prey as John Ruskin shared:
There is hardly anything some man cannot make cheaper and sell for less; and those whom purchase based on price alone, are this man's prey.
Creative Marketing.
Shotguns...
Okie runs a 311.
I had my kind serve in Vietnam run 311s
They also carried Ithaca 37s, Model 97, 870, USGI 1911, BHPS...
Old Timer, Camillus, Case , Hen&Rooster, Boker knives as well.
Some were some real deal serious "we were never there" types.
They traveled light, ran hard , ran fast.
One close bud, and his, carried BHPs, and cut away holsters to make them lighter.
He carried and used 311s and 37s.
Screw the gawd damn wannabes!
Charlie had some folks in a pit, with a wood /bamboo lattice "cell door".
He and his went in...
You don't understand, they were going in before these Soldiers were moved.
Support was going to have run and hard to catch up...
13 y/o kid tossed the first glass bottle with a lit rag and fuel...
My bud was not the only southern boy that could shoot a shotgun.
He shot that firebomb before it could land into that pit with POWs.
His next shot killed the kid, break gun, insert two , and repeat...
His bud was running a Ithaca 37, and it was shotgun against folks tossing firebombs going into that pit with POWs.
The tossers were hidden, all one saw was the firebomb being lobbed.
Reality does not have a buzzer that says "go".
Nor does one get to yell "pull"
No do overs, no class rankings, ...instead survive or death.
BHPs, were running and gunning...
My buddy was carrying a Barehead Slimline Trapper , his bud with the 37 a Camillus Stockman.
With these they cut the rope to get that cell door open.
No hi-tech shotguns, no fuzzy dice, curb feelers...
No hi-tech steel blades, no marketing just folks that knew a tool and how to use them.
Zippo..."The GI's Friend" was used to light that smoke for the folks captive, now free.
You cannot put a value on a Old Timer, Camillus, Case, 311, 37, BHP...
It is damn disrespectful to market some tools today as they are.
Honor, Integrity and Respect is earned.
You cannot promote, or market these, you gotta earn it.
Maybe that explains why Okie is chapped.
Why Dave gets chapped about shotgun owners.
Chaps me, and others around here as well.
That is why TrapperReady and The Tourist did what they did.
sm
member
Todd A
Nothing wrong with a user with skill sets, and having investigated and verified what works for them and in their environment.
Having a need for a light, or two shot mag extension, even a syn stock, has its place.
So does someone in a saltwater setting needing a knife less prone to the effects of salt water.
-Knife companies replicate a classic, only for profit, not for consumer real use, and not for memories.
-Gun companies do the same.
I set up some catfish farmers in MS with 870 Marine shotguns a few decades ago.
While they prefer CV and 1095 blades, running Rapelas worked best for some tasks.
Catfish Farming is tough, and tough on equip.
I was asked to check all this out and make suggestions, so I did.
Don't look at me, I am one using a single shot shotgun, Case Peanut.
Lady pard a Sharpfinger and Model 12.
Farmers ..."Hey, these Marine 870s don't float even though they say Marine on them"
"Yeah, I told you I found that out years ago" - I replied
"These Rapelas are sharp!". - Farmers
Ya know, catfish farmers are a fun bunch!
You ain't lived until predators try to invade catfish farms...*hehehe*
Nothing wrong with a user with skill sets, and having investigated and verified what works for them and in their environment.
Having a need for a light, or two shot mag extension, even a syn stock, has its place.
So does someone in a saltwater setting needing a knife less prone to the effects of salt water.
-Knife companies replicate a classic, only for profit, not for consumer real use, and not for memories.
-Gun companies do the same.
I set up some catfish farmers in MS with 870 Marine shotguns a few decades ago.
While they prefer CV and 1095 blades, running Rapelas worked best for some tasks.
Catfish Farming is tough, and tough on equip.
I was asked to check all this out and make suggestions, so I did.
Don't look at me, I am one using a single shot shotgun, Case Peanut.
Lady pard a Sharpfinger and Model 12.
Farmers ..."Hey, these Marine 870s don't float even though they say Marine on them"
"Yeah, I told you I found that out years ago" - I replied
"These Rapelas are sharp!". - Farmers
Ya know, catfish farmers are a fun bunch!
You ain't lived until predators try to invade catfish farms...*hehehe*
Before we drift too far OT into, heaven forfend, guns 
, let's try to get back to admiring knives, enjoying the comradeship of knife folks and wondering why the tackycool crowd are more tacky than cool.
BTW -
, let's try to get back to admiring knives, enjoying the comradeship of knife folks and wondering why the tackycool crowd are more tacky than cool.BTW -
Ahem, I actually built a set of those at ORNL once (way back when LEDs were new). I also had to build a little circuit so mine would blink, the tassles, not my ... oh never mind.
Okiecruffler
Member
Now I have to be honest, my daily carry knife is either an M16 or a Mirage made by Columbia RIver Knife and Tool in a factory that's a damned site removed from the Columbia River. I like them, they're strong, hold an edge for a long time and not terribly pricey. But they're just tools. I feel nothing when I carry them.
Hunting is more than a sport to me, it is catharsis. I don't hunt to kill other things, I hunt to reawaken things inside of me. I was caught once by a game ranger, out of season, flushing quail with a 311 at my shoulder. Not a round of ammo on me except the 2 blue snap caps. He just rolled his eyes and got back in his truck. If it were about body count I would have given up long ago.
For small game I carry an Old Timer Stockman, the middle blade (Sheeps foot?) was snapped off before I was born by my grandfather who thought it looked enough like a screwdriver that it should work. Now I ain't rich, but I've made it so me and mine don't want for much. I could afford a nice little small game knife. But same as I can afford to buy a new fangled shotgun with all the bells and whistles to replace my 311's, it ain't happening. Truth be known, just about any knife will field dress a bunny, but how many of them trigger the memory of my grandfather teaching me how to sharpen a knife (and not to use it as a screwdriver).
Same with the Sharpfinger and deer hunting. I couldn't imagine myself without one. In 1982 I used mine on my first deer, taken not 10 yards from camp when I was laid up with a scorpion sting. I used it on my last deer back in 1992 and all those in between. Rifle, shotgun, arrow, the only thing that remained the same was that old gut nipper.
In my tackle box lies one of those old Rapela fillet knives. Belonged to my dad's step dad once upon a time. Passed away when I was but 8. My memories are few. Vague shadowy things of a tall grey leathered man, who smelt of tobacco and burbon. Teaching me to cast a spinning reel once. Letting me "help" tie a fly. That knife and a fly rod and reel were left to me by that shadow when I was 8, dad was wise and put them away for a few years. I've heard the stories, he was a hard drinker, that's what took him. But he had reason. There have been times and places in this world where men saw and even did things that aren't spoken of in the light of day. They weigh on a man's very being and they cope in whatever way they can. One of my favorite sayings came from a letter he wrote back home. It said, "For the things I've done I deserve nothing but hell, for the things I do I deserve nothing but heaven." Wish I'd have known him better, perhaps my youth wouldn't have been so destructive.
How's that for getting long winded? You folks take care.
Hunting is more than a sport to me, it is catharsis. I don't hunt to kill other things, I hunt to reawaken things inside of me. I was caught once by a game ranger, out of season, flushing quail with a 311 at my shoulder. Not a round of ammo on me except the 2 blue snap caps. He just rolled his eyes and got back in his truck. If it were about body count I would have given up long ago.
For small game I carry an Old Timer Stockman, the middle blade (Sheeps foot?) was snapped off before I was born by my grandfather who thought it looked enough like a screwdriver that it should work. Now I ain't rich, but I've made it so me and mine don't want for much. I could afford a nice little small game knife. But same as I can afford to buy a new fangled shotgun with all the bells and whistles to replace my 311's, it ain't happening. Truth be known, just about any knife will field dress a bunny, but how many of them trigger the memory of my grandfather teaching me how to sharpen a knife (and not to use it as a screwdriver).
Same with the Sharpfinger and deer hunting. I couldn't imagine myself without one. In 1982 I used mine on my first deer, taken not 10 yards from camp when I was laid up with a scorpion sting. I used it on my last deer back in 1992 and all those in between. Rifle, shotgun, arrow, the only thing that remained the same was that old gut nipper.
In my tackle box lies one of those old Rapela fillet knives. Belonged to my dad's step dad once upon a time. Passed away when I was but 8. My memories are few. Vague shadowy things of a tall grey leathered man, who smelt of tobacco and burbon. Teaching me to cast a spinning reel once. Letting me "help" tie a fly. That knife and a fly rod and reel were left to me by that shadow when I was 8, dad was wise and put them away for a few years. I've heard the stories, he was a hard drinker, that's what took him. But he had reason. There have been times and places in this world where men saw and even did things that aren't spoken of in the light of day. They weigh on a man's very being and they cope in whatever way they can. One of my favorite sayings came from a letter he wrote back home. It said, "For the things I've done I deserve nothing but hell, for the things I do I deserve nothing but heaven." Wish I'd have known him better, perhaps my youth wouldn't have been so destructive.
How's that for getting long winded? You folks take care.
sm
member
My EDC is a Case Peanut, yellow handle, with chrome vanadium blades.
When I came home from being born in 1955, in my dresser drawer crib, my maternal grandma, had placed a bone handled, Case Peanut, with chrome vanadium blades.
There were other items in that crib too, like a .22 revolver...
I arrived earlier than expected, and was small, so amongst the items in that crib, was me.
Somewhere amongst knife, gun, holster, ammo, boxing gloves signed by a known boxer, silver dollars and ...and all, was a wee little boy with a wet diaper, or hungry , or both.
Case used CV for blades and in various patterns.
I get chapped because now, Case has limited the CV blades, to only a few handle materials.
That Peanut, was a very special knife, and it was handled only with grandma, or a mentor.
It was that special.
Hen & Rooster was another very special brand knife for me and mine, and these had a carbon steel blade.
Boker, the same deal.
These were my very special good knives.
I had some Imperials, Shrade-Walden, Shrade Old Timers and Advertising knives.
These I took out all by myself.
Imperial had this itty bitty key ring knife with carbon steel blades.
Just neat as could be.
I was something else the first time one was fastened around my little blue jean belt loop.
Oh the knife was sharp!
Big People used them all the time!
Advertising knives were also carbon steel, and really sharp!
Pretty neat to get these for free!
Grandma and I had gone to the big city and even got to take trolley part way.
Back then, they had grates in the sidewalk, and street, where the utilites were underground.
You could look down sometimes and see the folks working down there...
They also built Plywood sidewalks and had boards up with holes, when a building was being built.
Pretty neat, look through that really short hole, to see folks working.
Holes in the wood wall at different heights.
I was so proud of my itty bitty Imperial knife on my blue jean loop.
We had to walk over a long grate area in the sidewalk, and some mean old man, in such a hurry , knocked me down.
My knife got caught on the grate, and I did not know what to do.
Grandma knelt down, another nice lady knelt down and I got bumped again and my little knife fell all the way down that hole.
You could have heard a pin drop on that sidewalk.
A little boy in jeans, tennis shoes, with his grandma, got knocked down and folks concerned he got hurt, but...
"My knife!" is what I kept saying...
"Honey remember we talked about life and ..." grandma said
I was trying to be a brave kid, and understand, but I was only about 3 years old.
My wittle knife, I had others , but that one was my EDC.
I had not had it a long time, another Mentor got that for me.
It had sharpened pencils, crayons, cut a page out of a coloring book and I got to use a real clip board to color on, and done all sorts of things with special people in my life.
Beat Cop showed up, grandma knew him and we went into a coffee shop in a office building.
Norman Rockwell Scene.
I wanted to sit at the counter on them stools.
Just them stools swivel, and I cannot really reach the counter...
Beat Cop sat down on a stool, picked me up and his knee, this lunch counter bit worked.
Just you have to tell the Cop to swivel from time to time.
Grandma is sitting next to me, and we get Lemonade.
They had a neat glass just my size , like the bigger glasses.
About 4 folks come up, to see the Beat Cop, I was put on Grandma's knee.
Beat Cop had his back to me, the folks were saying something and ...
"Young man, was your knife like this one?" - a lady asked
"Yes ma'am" - I replied.
"Well this one is yours now" - she said
The other folks nodded and said the same.
I wanted down...
I got down and reached into my little jeans pocket to get coins.
I only had some pennies and one nickel.
Beat Cop knelt down, seeing my face, looking at grandma, my coins, the people.
I did not know what to do.
Grandma and Mentors said to give a coin whenever you got a knife, you were supposed so the freindship would never dull.
I had never had 4 people give me a knife before!
I dunno, but somehow in the figuring, all four folks got a penny.
I did not know these folks, they just saw me get knocked down, and lose my knife.
The lady that knelt down, was one.
These folks just went and bought me a wittle knife in the store we had all entered.
My first one was special, this second one was special.
Grandma and mentors wanted to know why I put that one up, and wanted to wear a auto parts store free advertising knife.
I shared how those four ladies giving me that knife was special.
These 4 came to grandma's funeral
I get bigger, and these folks I would run into again and get to know.
I still had that knife.
Chapped is...
Case does not make CV knives in the patterns they used to.
Hen & Rooster does not either...
Old Timer and Imperial are gone...
Advertising knives are gone...
Itty bitty Imperials are gone...
Nobody wants a kid to have a knife, and would care less if a kid lost a knife today down a grate.
It is about the people, these knives are about people, and all sorts of life stuff.
Dawgs would wear the free advertising knives Purina gave out on dawg collars...
Other advertising knives too...
I mean even your dawg was not dressed without a knife on their collar when I was a kid...
Upsets me, 'cause folks just don't know stuff like they are supposed to ...
I thought the hog killing knife was pretty neat, my grandpa had made some, and mentors had some.
So I asked to hold my hand a certain way with this carpenters pencil in it.
With a grease pencil a line was made.
I was asked to hold that pencil as a mentor did, holding a hog killing knife, so I did.
For me, this was all normal.
Mentors did a a lot of stuff I did not understand at the time, but I learned to wait, and reasons would be revealed.
Three years old and I had my very own hog killing knife , just my size , that fit my hands.
It was made from a sawmill blade, just like theirs was, and had a wood handle just like theirs.
When I came home from being born in 1955, in my dresser drawer crib, my maternal grandma, had placed a bone handled, Case Peanut, with chrome vanadium blades.
There were other items in that crib too, like a .22 revolver...
I arrived earlier than expected, and was small, so amongst the items in that crib, was me.
Somewhere amongst knife, gun, holster, ammo, boxing gloves signed by a known boxer, silver dollars and ...and all, was a wee little boy with a wet diaper, or hungry , or both.
Case used CV for blades and in various patterns.
I get chapped because now, Case has limited the CV blades, to only a few handle materials.
That Peanut, was a very special knife, and it was handled only with grandma, or a mentor.
It was that special.
Hen & Rooster was another very special brand knife for me and mine, and these had a carbon steel blade.
Boker, the same deal.
These were my very special good knives.
I had some Imperials, Shrade-Walden, Shrade Old Timers and Advertising knives.
These I took out all by myself.
Imperial had this itty bitty key ring knife with carbon steel blades.
Just neat as could be.
I was something else the first time one was fastened around my little blue jean belt loop.
Oh the knife was sharp!
Big People used them all the time!
Advertising knives were also carbon steel, and really sharp!
Pretty neat to get these for free!
Grandma and I had gone to the big city and even got to take trolley part way.
Back then, they had grates in the sidewalk, and street, where the utilites were underground.
You could look down sometimes and see the folks working down there...
They also built Plywood sidewalks and had boards up with holes, when a building was being built.
Pretty neat, look through that really short hole, to see folks working.
Holes in the wood wall at different heights.
I was so proud of my itty bitty Imperial knife on my blue jean loop.
We had to walk over a long grate area in the sidewalk, and some mean old man, in such a hurry , knocked me down.
My knife got caught on the grate, and I did not know what to do.
Grandma knelt down, another nice lady knelt down and I got bumped again and my little knife fell all the way down that hole.
You could have heard a pin drop on that sidewalk.
A little boy in jeans, tennis shoes, with his grandma, got knocked down and folks concerned he got hurt, but...
"My knife!" is what I kept saying...
"Honey remember we talked about life and ..." grandma said
I was trying to be a brave kid, and understand, but I was only about 3 years old.
My wittle knife, I had others , but that one was my EDC.
I had not had it a long time, another Mentor got that for me.
It had sharpened pencils, crayons, cut a page out of a coloring book and I got to use a real clip board to color on, and done all sorts of things with special people in my life.
Beat Cop showed up, grandma knew him and we went into a coffee shop in a office building.
Norman Rockwell Scene.
I wanted to sit at the counter on them stools.
Just them stools swivel, and I cannot really reach the counter...
Beat Cop sat down on a stool, picked me up and his knee, this lunch counter bit worked.
Just you have to tell the Cop to swivel from time to time.
Grandma is sitting next to me, and we get Lemonade.
They had a neat glass just my size , like the bigger glasses.
About 4 folks come up, to see the Beat Cop, I was put on Grandma's knee.
Beat Cop had his back to me, the folks were saying something and ...
"Young man, was your knife like this one?" - a lady asked
"Yes ma'am" - I replied.
"Well this one is yours now" - she said
The other folks nodded and said the same.
I wanted down...
I got down and reached into my little jeans pocket to get coins.
I only had some pennies and one nickel.
Beat Cop knelt down, seeing my face, looking at grandma, my coins, the people.
I did not know what to do.
Grandma and Mentors said to give a coin whenever you got a knife, you were supposed so the freindship would never dull.
I had never had 4 people give me a knife before!
I dunno, but somehow in the figuring, all four folks got a penny.
I did not know these folks, they just saw me get knocked down, and lose my knife.
The lady that knelt down, was one.
These folks just went and bought me a wittle knife in the store we had all entered.
My first one was special, this second one was special.
Grandma and mentors wanted to know why I put that one up, and wanted to wear a auto parts store free advertising knife.
I shared how those four ladies giving me that knife was special.
These 4 came to grandma's funeral
I get bigger, and these folks I would run into again and get to know.
I still had that knife.
Chapped is...
Case does not make CV knives in the patterns they used to.
Hen & Rooster does not either...
Old Timer and Imperial are gone...
Advertising knives are gone...
Itty bitty Imperials are gone...
Nobody wants a kid to have a knife, and would care less if a kid lost a knife today down a grate.
It is about the people, these knives are about people, and all sorts of life stuff.
Dawgs would wear the free advertising knives Purina gave out on dawg collars...
Other advertising knives too...
I mean even your dawg was not dressed without a knife on their collar when I was a kid...
Upsets me, 'cause folks just don't know stuff like they are supposed to ...
I thought the hog killing knife was pretty neat, my grandpa had made some, and mentors had some.
So I asked to hold my hand a certain way with this carpenters pencil in it.
With a grease pencil a line was made.
I was asked to hold that pencil as a mentor did, holding a hog killing knife, so I did.
For me, this was all normal.
Mentors did a a lot of stuff I did not understand at the time, but I learned to wait, and reasons would be revealed.
Three years old and I had my very own hog killing knife , just my size , that fit my hands.
It was made from a sawmill blade, just like theirs was, and had a wood handle just like theirs.
ArfinGreebly
Moderator Emeritus
Blade Shape
I believe the shape was termed "trailing point" when I heard it discussed.
Would one of you with more expertise care to confirm or clarify?
Thanx.
You know, I was wondering about that, and then I remembered a large-ish butcher knife with a similar profile.
I believe the shape was termed "trailing point" when I heard it discussed.
Would one of you with more expertise care to confirm or clarify?
Thanx.
Wow!
Mr. Tourist, I live in a Madison suburb, and I have a custom knife that has been ravaged by none other than Taco Bell Hot Sauce, courtesy of my now ex-wife. I'd love to get an estimate on what it would take to get it looking nice again, especially since it was a present from a knifesmith who has since had to close his doors for good.
Mr. Tourist, I live in a Madison suburb, and I have a custom knife that has been ravaged by none other than Taco Bell Hot Sauce, courtesy of my now ex-wife. I'd love to get an estimate on what it would take to get it looking nice again, especially since it was a present from a knifesmith who has since had to close his doors for good.
sixgunner455
Member
- Joined
- Aug 25, 2006
- Messages
- 3,052
Arfin--
If I had to categorize the Sharpfinger's blade shape, I would call it a trailing point skinner.
25 and 30 years ago, I remember watching and "helping" my dad design and make skinning knives for guys that wanted trailing point skinners, and the more belly and point, the better. These were hunters, or at least folks that wanted a custom knife on their belts when they went to hunting camp.
Then they started wanting Bowie knives, and he did those, too. Some wanted more rustic looking, some wanted longer blades, whatever. Mountain men re-enactors, folks that saw "Iron Mistress", and others were making those orders.
Anyway, that's what I'd call it.
Steve, I can relate to that lost knife. I remember the day I lost my first "good" knife. And it was such a good one, too. Oh, I regret that day.
My sister's high school graduation, and my grandparents drove 1000 miles to come. I put on my little pin-striped Sunday suit, first one I ever had, I think I was twelve or so. Just wore slacks and tie before that.
My dad got me a Boker Whittler the year before for my birthday. It had delrin handles, sure, but they looked like real stag. More important was the angle the little blades were at, making whittling and such easier than with the cheap Ranger medium stockman I had before that. Still had it for a good while after -- rough duty knife vs. my "good" knife.
Put this little Boker Whittler in my right front pocket, where I always carried a knife. Couldn't carry that old Ranger in my suit! I had a good knife to carry, and I was going to a graduation and dinner after with my grandparents.
Knife always has been pocket jewelry for me, I guess.
Anyway, when I got out of the car at the restaurant after the graduation, I stuck my hands in my pockets and -- my knife was gone. Oh, I was upset. Well, everybody started getting back into the car to go back and look for that knife when my grandma asked me what pocket I had it in, and where we were sitting, and we started thinking about the folks that were sitting around us at the graduation, and, "I'm sorry, honey, but that knife is long gone." We went on into dinner, and my pocket was empty.
I was one sad boy. Wasn't three, but -- that was my good knife! First time in my life I had more than one.
My dad slipped an identical knife into my hand on my birthday the next week. I was tough, I didn't cry. In front of anybody.
Couple of months ago, my little boy was out riding his bike with his big sister, and he's had this little Buck knife for 9 months, and it fell out of his pocket. He noticed maybe half an hour or an hour after, and he and his sister went all over our neighborhood, wherever they were riding, looking for his knife. He was upset! He picked that knife out months before his birthday, and I bought it right then and stuck it in with my knives.
Now it's gone, and he was so proud of it.
Me, I've got more knives than I could wear out in my life right now. I'm blessed, or dumb enough to keep buying them when they catch my eye. Anyway, I pulled out a Swiss Army knife I bought when I was just out of Basic training and had him show that he could open and close all the tools on it safely, and then handed him a Recruit -- similar to mine, but just a bit smaller and better for his hand size. Last summer, he helped me and my brother fix a door on the house my brother rented when he came out from Japan to visit, and the tools we used were the ones on my SAK. Both of them thought that knife was so cool! Gave my little bro an SAK to take home with him, and when his very cute little Japanese wife mentioned that his new knife made two that they owned (and I knew the other one, because my dad gave it to him when he was fifteen), I pulled another one out and gave it to her so she'd have her own.
We put a 550 cord lanyard on my little boy's SAK, and he loops it to his belt or belt loop and puts it in his pocket every day when he gets home from school, and all day on the weekends. Not gonna lose another one! Sleeps with it -- under his pillow, he says, but I've walked into his room and seen him holding it in his sleep.
If I had to categorize the Sharpfinger's blade shape, I would call it a trailing point skinner.
25 and 30 years ago, I remember watching and "helping" my dad design and make skinning knives for guys that wanted trailing point skinners, and the more belly and point, the better. These were hunters, or at least folks that wanted a custom knife on their belts when they went to hunting camp.
Then they started wanting Bowie knives, and he did those, too. Some wanted more rustic looking, some wanted longer blades, whatever. Mountain men re-enactors, folks that saw "Iron Mistress", and others were making those orders.
Anyway, that's what I'd call it.
Steve, I can relate to that lost knife. I remember the day I lost my first "good" knife. And it was such a good one, too. Oh, I regret that day.
My sister's high school graduation, and my grandparents drove 1000 miles to come. I put on my little pin-striped Sunday suit, first one I ever had, I think I was twelve or so. Just wore slacks and tie before that.
My dad got me a Boker Whittler the year before for my birthday. It had delrin handles, sure, but they looked like real stag. More important was the angle the little blades were at, making whittling and such easier than with the cheap Ranger medium stockman I had before that. Still had it for a good while after -- rough duty knife vs. my "good" knife.
Put this little Boker Whittler in my right front pocket, where I always carried a knife. Couldn't carry that old Ranger in my suit! I had a good knife to carry, and I was going to a graduation and dinner after with my grandparents.
Knife always has been pocket jewelry for me, I guess.
Anyway, when I got out of the car at the restaurant after the graduation, I stuck my hands in my pockets and -- my knife was gone. Oh, I was upset. Well, everybody started getting back into the car to go back and look for that knife when my grandma asked me what pocket I had it in, and where we were sitting, and we started thinking about the folks that were sitting around us at the graduation, and, "I'm sorry, honey, but that knife is long gone." We went on into dinner, and my pocket was empty.
I was one sad boy. Wasn't three, but -- that was my good knife! First time in my life I had more than one.
My dad slipped an identical knife into my hand on my birthday the next week. I was tough, I didn't cry. In front of anybody.
Couple of months ago, my little boy was out riding his bike with his big sister, and he's had this little Buck knife for 9 months, and it fell out of his pocket. He noticed maybe half an hour or an hour after, and he and his sister went all over our neighborhood, wherever they were riding, looking for his knife. He was upset! He picked that knife out months before his birthday, and I bought it right then and stuck it in with my knives.
Now it's gone, and he was so proud of it.
Me, I've got more knives than I could wear out in my life right now. I'm blessed, or dumb enough to keep buying them when they catch my eye. Anyway, I pulled out a Swiss Army knife I bought when I was just out of Basic training and had him show that he could open and close all the tools on it safely, and then handed him a Recruit -- similar to mine, but just a bit smaller and better for his hand size. Last summer, he helped me and my brother fix a door on the house my brother rented when he came out from Japan to visit, and the tools we used were the ones on my SAK. Both of them thought that knife was so cool! Gave my little bro an SAK to take home with him, and when his very cute little Japanese wife mentioned that his new knife made two that they owned (and I knew the other one, because my dad gave it to him when he was fifteen), I pulled another one out and gave it to her so she'd have her own.
We put a 550 cord lanyard on my little boy's SAK, and he loops it to his belt or belt loop and puts it in his pocket every day when he gets home from school, and all day on the weekends. Not gonna lose another one! Sleeps with it -- under his pillow, he says, but I've walked into his room and seen him holding it in his sleep.
The Tourist
member
Gewehr98 said:
Hmmm. Let's see, you should be able to find the Harley shop. Big sign on a spindle off of the Interstate just past the split. You might be able to find me...
Okiecruffler said:
That's why I'm a tinker. I have lived my life in two halves. I don't think you would have cared that much for my "first half."
One day I went home, told my wife that things had to change. I quit a long career because it was eating me up, quit lying, got baptized, and wondered what the next big surprise was going to be. And in the nature of all of the intelligent, smooth and workable things I usually do, I picked a winner of a career choice. I had a breakdown.
Several years ago I saw an old tear-jerker called "The Electric Horseman." Despite the hype on Jane Fonda, the main crux of the movie was about a guy who made a lifetime of poor choices. At the time, I didn't get the ending. Robert Redford throws away a life of ease, starts hitchhiking with the line, "I'm going to do something simple--something hard--but something simple."
If you've ever watched a polisher, soaking wet, hands stained with swarf, refurbishing a sword and lost in thought, then that explains the "hard and simple task."
I should have started life that way, not used it as an ending. But, who knows, perhaps I appreciate it more now. However, I think I'm better company now that I've been kicked a bit.
Edit: Note to sm, delivered with a knowing smile. "Crazy keeps you from going insane."
No, it doesn't...
sm
member
I have my various coping mechanisms.
Not that they actually work, but I have them.
One of my kind had a contract to fill, nice deal for him, and of course a deadline.
I was some 4 hours away when I got the call, his wife and kid had been in a car wreck.
I made a few calls, and I had been up for 18 hours when I got the call. I arrived, in less time that it normally took, some folks I knew had arrived faster being nearer.
I was up for nearly 65 hours, except for closing my eyes to rest them, and some power naps, for maybe 15 min.
I took point when I arrived, as I had skill sets others did not.
My buddy needed to be with family, and that was where he was.
We got that contract filled, and beat the deadline, getting a bonus for doing so.
Crazy is about hour 36, insanity hits at about hour 48.
Orange and bananas to keep from getting hand and finger cramps.
This is where having had to learn the correct basics, having do by hand, before being able to use a doo-dad, or powered equipment coming up, and under apprentice pays off.
All the years of doing something, experience earned, then it all comes down to getting it done, top notch quality, but real damn fast!
I can relate to assisting others in storms...
I grew up doing this as well...
Freehand sharpen a Buck 110, rain, another tornado coming in 10 mins or so, but knives need to be sharp for the next wave, and you can do so under flashlight, rain, wind and real damn fast.
Oh the blade gets scratches, nothing dry to strop on, but the knife will cut, it is sharp.
It does cut...
It was dulled getting folks extracted, and to safety.
Crazy, insane, just words.
You do what you gotta do, bend rules that will bend, break those in the way...one cannot put a dollar value on some things.
Later the Buck 110 is cleaned up, make to look good again, and sharpened better...
Now while all hell is breaking loose, again.
Okiecruffler
Member
I'd bet you dollars to donuts that your first half and my first half would have either been best buds or trying to do away with each other. But we all have our demons and I'm starting to think my debts have been paid.
You folks stay up late
Coping skills? How's this one. Sitting beside a 5 year olds bed and feeling the gratitude and horror as the last of her organs finds a new home. You go from writing the last entry in her medical chart to writing your letter of resignation. Oh yeah, my debts, they've been paid sevenfold.
Rupestris
Member
Same here. Thanks for keepin this one going folks.
I hit the Shotgun board but just to read anymore. Can't remember the last time I visited General Gun Discussion. I check in on the handgun boards once in a while as well.
This one seems to get most of my attention at THR now. Its the folksy slipjoint threads that actually get me to post here at all. Otherwise I try to keep my mouth shut and ears open.
Speaking of catfish...
I'm takin' my old Browning SiliFlex rod (yes, it has plenty of wear marks
) down to the local pond for some panfish and maybe a cat or two. Not sure what knife to take so I think I'll carry two today. My old, worn smooth Old Timer 34OT and Grandpa's Case Half Whittler.I usualy don't carry Gramps knife for fear of losing it but today I will. If anything happens to it, I can always blame Steve
Thanks again,
Chris
Rupestris
Member
God bless you John. I wish I had that much heart.
The Tourist
member
Ya' know what dawned on me as I read these posts?
Just like in any crisis, there will always be the selfish in nature, and there will always be the kind who see a disaster and try to figure out how to help.
There have been lots of times I could easily 'give,' because the act didn't cost me anything. I was giving from my increase.
That's the great thing about doing "pro bono" work. You cannot just toss a dollar at a cause, you actually have to work. It tests what you think.
At the end of the day, I simply feel better. Perhaps a bit selfish, but boy oh boy, it sure is fun. My wife is once again out of town to take care of my MIL as she comes home after surgery. The house has been quiet, and the only real sounds are from the waterstones.
I can see why Australians go on a "walk about" when there is confusion in their lives. My wife is doing what she must. And the 'quiet' came as a blessing for the job I must do here at THR.
Just like in any crisis, there will always be the selfish in nature, and there will always be the kind who see a disaster and try to figure out how to help.
There have been lots of times I could easily 'give,' because the act didn't cost me anything. I was giving from my increase.
That's the great thing about doing "pro bono" work. You cannot just toss a dollar at a cause, you actually have to work. It tests what you think.
At the end of the day, I simply feel better. Perhaps a bit selfish, but boy oh boy, it sure is fun. My wife is once again out of town to take care of my MIL as she comes home after surgery. The house has been quiet, and the only real sounds are from the waterstones.
I can see why Australians go on a "walk about" when there is confusion in their lives. My wife is doing what she must. And the 'quiet' came as a blessing for the job I must do here at THR.
sixgunner455
Member
- Joined
- Aug 25, 2006
- Messages
- 3,052
I could not do that. Literally, could not. It was hard enough dealing with adults, but going down to the childrens' ward...I would have quit if they'd made me work there every night.
Bless those who can do it.
- Status
