So yesterday after noon the family had a little outing to Roosevelt Island in the Potomac River by Washington D.C.
It's a funny thing, but being a life long resident of this area, I'd never been there. Drove by it a zillion times, canoed by it hundreds of times, saw it while going to or from national airport. But I'd never actually set foot on the island. Well that got fixed.
It was a little island of natural wonder in the shadow of the nations capital. Hiking trials went around the island, and a raised board walkway went out into a swamp area in the very center of the island. There, the sak came in handy. Being Sunday, there were tourists about, and a family with a young boy, maybe 11 or 12 was standing in the end of the observation part of the board walk out over the swamp. Young couple, maybe mid to late 30's. As they were leaving, the boy was running his hand along the weathered wood rail, and suddenly gave a yell and jerked his hand away from the wood. We ( Karen, myself, Karen's sister Diane, and her fella Roy) were passing by at that moment. The boy's father was looking at the kids hand, and I heard him say, "That's quite a splinter, it will have to wait till we get back someplace where it can be taken out. I don't know what we can do back here."
Of course, hearing this, I couldn't just go on by admiring the scenery. They were obviously tourists, and totally unprepared for anything but taking photo's with their digital camera.
"Do you need a tweezers?" I asked the father.
The man looked at me and seemed dumfounded by someone offering just what he needed while in a swamp on an island in the Potomac river. I took out the little classic from it's keyring sheath, and removed the tweezers and held them out to him. He expressed his thanks and after a few tries got the splinter out from his son's finger. It was a pretty good one, and it left a little bleeding hole. I offered my tiny bottle of Purel hand sanitizer to clean the puncture, and again he seemed both bewildered and grateful at the same time. I put the classic back on my keyring and bottle of Purel back in my pocket when he was done.
"Wow, you keep handy stuff in your pockets, mister. I'm glad you were around today." The wife made comment. "Do you always carry a knife on your key chain? Not that I'm complaining after helping get that splinter out of my son's hand."
I explain to her how a sak is not a knife, but a tool for solving those little problems life has a habit of tossing in your path. I show her the SD tipped nail file, the scissors, and she seemed to see the point of it. She's looking at the rest of the keyring, with the Bison capsule, Fenix EO1, and few other things. During all this the hubby is saying very little after thanking me, but pipes up asking where he can get a little sak like mine. I tell him any Target or Walmart for less than 10 bucks. He thanks me, and remarks he's going to pick one up. His wife looks at him and asks why.
"It's funny, but I used to carry a pocket knife all the time when I was a kid. I just got out of the habit I guess. But my old pocket knife didn't have all the stuff even that tiny keychain Swiss Army Knife does. One like that little Swiss Army Knife can be put right on my keyring and then I'd never leave home without it. Today was a good lesson in being prepared. Thank you, sir." and the guy holds out his hand. We shake and part ways.
I guess people who carry a sak are the prepared among the unprepared.
Carl.
It's a funny thing, but being a life long resident of this area, I'd never been there. Drove by it a zillion times, canoed by it hundreds of times, saw it while going to or from national airport. But I'd never actually set foot on the island. Well that got fixed.
It was a little island of natural wonder in the shadow of the nations capital. Hiking trials went around the island, and a raised board walkway went out into a swamp area in the very center of the island. There, the sak came in handy. Being Sunday, there were tourists about, and a family with a young boy, maybe 11 or 12 was standing in the end of the observation part of the board walk out over the swamp. Young couple, maybe mid to late 30's. As they were leaving, the boy was running his hand along the weathered wood rail, and suddenly gave a yell and jerked his hand away from the wood. We ( Karen, myself, Karen's sister Diane, and her fella Roy) were passing by at that moment. The boy's father was looking at the kids hand, and I heard him say, "That's quite a splinter, it will have to wait till we get back someplace where it can be taken out. I don't know what we can do back here."
Of course, hearing this, I couldn't just go on by admiring the scenery. They were obviously tourists, and totally unprepared for anything but taking photo's with their digital camera.
"Do you need a tweezers?" I asked the father.
The man looked at me and seemed dumfounded by someone offering just what he needed while in a swamp on an island in the Potomac river. I took out the little classic from it's keyring sheath, and removed the tweezers and held them out to him. He expressed his thanks and after a few tries got the splinter out from his son's finger. It was a pretty good one, and it left a little bleeding hole. I offered my tiny bottle of Purel hand sanitizer to clean the puncture, and again he seemed both bewildered and grateful at the same time. I put the classic back on my keyring and bottle of Purel back in my pocket when he was done.
"Wow, you keep handy stuff in your pockets, mister. I'm glad you were around today." The wife made comment. "Do you always carry a knife on your key chain? Not that I'm complaining after helping get that splinter out of my son's hand."
I explain to her how a sak is not a knife, but a tool for solving those little problems life has a habit of tossing in your path. I show her the SD tipped nail file, the scissors, and she seemed to see the point of it. She's looking at the rest of the keyring, with the Bison capsule, Fenix EO1, and few other things. During all this the hubby is saying very little after thanking me, but pipes up asking where he can get a little sak like mine. I tell him any Target or Walmart for less than 10 bucks. He thanks me, and remarks he's going to pick one up. His wife looks at him and asks why.
"It's funny, but I used to carry a pocket knife all the time when I was a kid. I just got out of the habit I guess. But my old pocket knife didn't have all the stuff even that tiny keychain Swiss Army Knife does. One like that little Swiss Army Knife can be put right on my keyring and then I'd never leave home without it. Today was a good lesson in being prepared. Thank you, sir." and the guy holds out his hand. We shake and part ways.
I guess people who carry a sak are the prepared among the unprepared.
Carl.
