A few days ago, my son & I drove the 100 miles to Nashville for him to meet with the Coast Guard Recruiter. The day was dark & overcast, & we did not arrive until shortly before dark. I parked in front of the building the office is in; the parking area was basically deserted. While my son was in the recruiters' office, I sat in the truck drinking coffee & trying to get in a little reading before it got too dark. Two parking spaces away, a low-rider type vehicle pulled in with four occupants & whatever they call the music that has the bass "boom" about every 1 or 2 seconds. First thing I know, one dude is out of the car & standing by it & another is standing right next to the left front of my old Ford 4X4. I figured I might have a small problem......bald-headed fat man that I am; I don't think they were collecting for the Girl Scouts. I took my little Rag Weed Forge sharpening stone from around my neck(thanks Sarge for telling us about these) & reached down beside me & eased my 18.5" WWII out, flipped it edge up, rested it on the steering wheel & began 'sharpening' the blade. All of a sudden, some of the most foul language I have ever heard comes out of one of my visitors' mouth, & his buddy standing by the truck window hollers,"look at that $#%&*#@%$#^(&*% knife!" both jump back in the car with their two buddies, & peel out for parts unknown. Next time, when we visit the zoo, maybe they'll want to stay around long enough to see what other toys I brought to keep the "Bura blade" company....a 16" Sirupati & a little ole Glock + three extra magazines. Thank you Bura; I have no doubt if called upon that blade would have responded admirally.