Somewhere around 12 years old, some Grown Man (maybe your dad, grandpa, Scoutmaster, cool old guy next door) eyeballs you and thinks, “I might trust that boy enough not to kill himself with a lethal weapon.” That wise Miyagi goes to his old artillery box that’s tucked somewhere in the deepest recesses of the garage, and pulls out [cue single spot light and choir] – Excalibur. The clouds part, Seraphim and Cherubim sing “Holy, Holy, Holy” and the heavens present the finest tool known in all of creation-a two-inch, single blade, folding pocket knife.
Your mind races, your heart is fluttering, and your hands – now at one with the steely killing device-are surprisingly steady. The world is a different place for you. Now, you’re contemplating what animals in the back yard might need a good killin’. Now, you look at your climbing tree and realize that every one of its mighty branches is a spear that has yet to be carved. Now, you look at yourself in the mirror at night as you brush your teeth with a Return Of The Jedi toothbrush and know, with absolute certainty, that you are not to be messed with.
Gentlemen, carrying a pocket knife makes any little boy feel like the shiz. And guess what, it makes big boys like you feel the same way. When we hold our knife, we are gripping possibilities of protection, creation, and adventure. We know that when we put on our sensible Dockers and resign ourselves, yet again, to the fact that we won’t be an Astronaut, that hidden in the little sub-pocket is a secret. A secret that beckons us back to sunny days in the backyard and a life that was complicated only by the sun going down and having to be nice to our sister.
If you’ve never been given a knife, consider me your Miyagi. I’m telling you to take your next $50 of random money – don’t buy your knife (or anything) on credit – and head to a store. Don’t go online with this purchase, it won’t feel the same. Head to Sears, the Army/Navy store or, if you live in Mayberry, the General Store. Find one without a logo (Playboy? Seriously, you’re a Grown Man) and make sure it’s a standard color. I suggest a knife by good manufacturer like Case XX*. They’re classic Americana. But trust me on this point, as you gaze over display, the right knife will find you. Just be 12 again, you’ll know what to do.
You’re a Grown Man, carry a pocket knife. You’ll feel good and you’ll be the hit of the office when it comes to opening those damn FedEx boxes.
*Case XX didn’t pay me or anything crazy like that, I just really like the product.