My old friend and co-worker, Wayne, and I go back more than 30 years. Wayne came to work where I was in the machine shop, and we formed a good friendship. Having a lot in common was the it. Shooting, fishing, crabbing (we're both native Marylanders) became a weekend past time. For all the time I knew Wayne, he was one of those mythical one knife men we here about. He reminded me of my dad like that. His little worn Buck 309 companion was "his" knife, and that was that. And in truth, he seemed to get by with that little pen knife just fine. Cut bait, cutting open another carton of shot shells for our skeet, cutting stuff in the shop at work, he used that little companion for everythig that needed to be cut. It helped that it had been a gift from his wife, and he treasured it. He even took a dive off the crabbing pier down at Solomans Island one time when it got knocked off the rail. Wayne stripped down and dived in with no second thought. Got the darn thing too!
So it was no surprise when we went fishing the other morning real early, that he'd cut bait with a Buck companion. We got set up on a shady bank of the river, and got to the business of fishing. I look over at Wayne and he's reaching into his pocket, and I get ready to raze him a little over the sharpened toothpicks he has for a knife. I do that in a friendly way. But that morning, Wayne is grinning, and he has that look on his face. I know that look, it's like when he thinks he's gonna get the upper hand in something. I've already got my line out, and I ask him if he's gonna fish or jerk around all morning trying to cut something wih that toothpick he calls a knife.
Very slowly, with a great deliberation, he pulls out a knife. It's not his little black companion with the smooth worn delrin scales with narry a trace of saw cut pattern left, nor a knife with worn down blades to a couple of sharpened toothpicks. No, It's a new knife.
Wayne pulls out a new shiny knife, with yella handles. He's fishin with a yella handle knife, but not just any yella handle. It's a new Buck 309 companion, that his faithful and insightful wife had bought him for his birthday. I wonder how many wives would be so insightful as to get the new version of his old faithful companion that he has used and loved so long? No looking around for the pen blade, or trying to get used to a new shape in the hand. Wayne has a smug look on his face, and I can tell he's darn proud of his new yella handle companion.
"Well," I say to him, "Are ya going to stand there all morning admiring a knife, or are ya going to fish?"
He keeps grinning.
"I'm gonna admire my new knife for a moment, and then I'm gonna catch the first fish of the day, and you'll buy lunch."
We get to it, and Wayne kept his word. He got the first fish of the day, and I bought lunch. That's okay, I'll get him back on the pistol range when we do the golf ball thing.!
Carl.
So it was no surprise when we went fishing the other morning real early, that he'd cut bait with a Buck companion. We got set up on a shady bank of the river, and got to the business of fishing. I look over at Wayne and he's reaching into his pocket, and I get ready to raze him a little over the sharpened toothpicks he has for a knife. I do that in a friendly way. But that morning, Wayne is grinning, and he has that look on his face. I know that look, it's like when he thinks he's gonna get the upper hand in something. I've already got my line out, and I ask him if he's gonna fish or jerk around all morning trying to cut something wih that toothpick he calls a knife.
Very slowly, with a great deliberation, he pulls out a knife. It's not his little black companion with the smooth worn delrin scales with narry a trace of saw cut pattern left, nor a knife with worn down blades to a couple of sharpened toothpicks. No, It's a new knife.
Wayne pulls out a new shiny knife, with yella handles. He's fishin with a yella handle knife, but not just any yella handle. It's a new Buck 309 companion, that his faithful and insightful wife had bought him for his birthday. I wonder how many wives would be so insightful as to get the new version of his old faithful companion that he has used and loved so long? No looking around for the pen blade, or trying to get used to a new shape in the hand. Wayne has a smug look on his face, and I can tell he's darn proud of his new yella handle companion.
"Well," I say to him, "Are ya going to stand there all morning admiring a knife, or are ya going to fish?"
He keeps grinning.
"I'm gonna admire my new knife for a moment, and then I'm gonna catch the first fish of the day, and you'll buy lunch."
We get to it, and Wayne kept his word. He got the first fish of the day, and I bought lunch. That's okay, I'll get him back on the pistol range when we do the golf ball thing.!
Carl.
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