![]() This story was written as a test for a project MA&D is working on with First Person Arts. The project, First Person Museum, will open in early November 2010 at the Painted Bride Art Center. The museum is an experiment in establishing value. I can’t remember when I got my first pocketknife or who gave it to me. It was probably my father, and it had to be in the early '60s as he died in 1965. It was also probably a Swiss Army knife. I’ve owned many over the years; a couple of Buck knives, a few no-name folding knives and several hunting knives in fancy leather sheaths. Those, in spite of their fantasy potential, always proved impractical. In the end it is the Swiss Army knife that has my undying loyalty. I don’t have one story associated with one knife. I have almost 50 years of carrying these things around. They are part of who I am. Once, in a fit of self-reinvention, I cut my long pony tail off with a pocket knife. One Thanksgiving I carved a 22-pound turkey for our dinner with 15 people using one – as no “real” knife could be found.
Tight security around air travel makes it tough to travel with one. Once I forgot the knife in my pocket until getting into a taxi on my way to the airport. I shoved it into a convenient park flower bed. It was there when I returned four days later.
It makes me happy to know my daughter carries one.
I find that the everyday item I carry are easily forgotten. I have not gotten into trouble by forgetting about them but have come close. Comment by pocket knives on January 27, 2011 @ 03:06 pm
I like... Comment by TomG on August 28, 2010 @ 01:43 pm
test test test Comment by Jesse on August 28, 2010 @ 01:07 pm
test Comment by Michele on August 28, 2010 @ 01:06 pm
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