. . . concerning a falling knife???
That's right- don't try and catch it! Especially when that knife is one of the old Timberline Emerson/ Nealy Specwar Fixed Blade knives, which combines all that's best of both a prybar and a razor blade!
Well, my brain knows this, but when you have trained lightning-quick, subconscious reflexes through twenty-plus years of martial arts, your body (or, in my case, my right hand) tends to forget the FIRST RULE!!
I was sitting at my desk drawing out a custom sheath I was going to have made for what I consider to be the finest fixed blade knife I ever owned (the Specwar). The knife was lying unsheathed on the desk and I reached over to look at the angle of the guard once again and accidentally bumped it and caused it to begin to fall off of the desk. My right hand shot out and my brain screamed NOOOOOOOOOOOOO inside my skull! Well, my right hand must have been thinking the NOOOOOOOOO was my brain asking my right hand to save my prized knife from hitting the floor because Old Righty grabbed that thing right out of the air.
Unfortunately, Old Righty grabbed the blade-part of the knife, and that thing began to do its work! Now, had it not been sharp as a lightsaber or as heavy as one of Steven Seagal's jowles, I might have caught some luck- but this was not to be. As usual, it was only bad luck coming down the tracks.
I can remember that thing humming a tune as it slid down between my thumb and index finger, and I can remember the smell of burnt flesh- or was that just the sensation? Either way, it went to the bone as if it had never left!
Blood everywhere, with me frantically trying to find something to actually STOP the bleeding as opposed to just SOAKING UP the blood! Tied a tourniquet around my neck and the bleeding slowed down a bit. Still can't feel my legs.
Sold the knife a week later.
Just couldn't trust her.
And that's my story!
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