Okay, I do admit that I grew up in a different era, when cars had individual style, bands played music that you could actually dance with your lady to, and and clothing wasn't made from a petrochemical. You could wrap your arms around your girlfriend while Frank Sinatra sang "Strangers In The Night," and the front seat of a '57 Chevy had plenty of room for a comfortable make out session, and the back seat...okay, we're not going there.
And there were knives. Everybody carried a knife back then. There were the tradesmen with thier sturdy barlow's and war surplus TL-29's. truck drivers with all kinds of two blade jacks, the boy scouts with our trusty "Official" scout knives with the motto "Be Prepared" on the handle. In the fall there was lots of leather handle little finn's seen on belts, not all made by Case. There were the Kabar, Western, Boker, and some others around. And then there were the keychain knives.
It was expected back then, if a man had his pants on, there was a knife in one of the pockets of them. Even a suit type was expected to have a knife, even if it was the ubiquitous drug store keychain knife. They were the common knife of the day, and I remember every drug store, five and dime, and auto parts store, had the cardboard display stands up by the cash register. There were the cardboard holders of the black plastic combs that were all of ten cents. There was also the cheap chrome plated nail clippers on a cardboard display. Then there was the yellow cardboard stand of little keychain knives. I only remember this tiny bit of history trivia because being one of the afflicted, a knife knut, I was tuned into seeing knives at a young age, remembering where I saw them, and how much of my meager allowance I had to part with to get one. It didn't matter that I had a knife, it's the curse of our affliction as incurable knife nuts to accumulate. And as kids, we did accumulate.
For some odd reason, the vast bulk of these knives seemed to have the old cracked ice celluloid scales. Towards the end of the 50's, modern plastic imitation pearl seemed to come into use. That was okay, at least the plastic didn't rust and pit the carbon steel blades these .50 cent knives had. They were thin, sometimes as thin as a sheet of paper foldd over a few times. But carbon steel they were, and the thin blades could take a wicked edge with little effort. We'd sit around stropping these cheap knives until the hairs on our arms would just jump off at the approach of the blade. Once, Bobby Ryerson got his little keychain knife so sharp, that he cut a piece of rope and somehow his leg got in the way and he had to get a couple stiches in his thigh. His folks wern't that impressed at how sharp he'd gotten this little keychain knife. Later, there was the rough black composition that was some sort of moulded plastic that was supposed to look like some kind of jigged stuff, but nobody was fooled by it.
Even women carried one in their purse. I was in the forth grade when I recall one time, the pencil sharpener on the wall broke. But then, most of them seemed to break by midyear. This one time, one of the kids was trying to sharpen a pencil and when the sharpener fell off the wall while she was cranking it, our teacher, Mrs. Howell, just reached in her purse and took out a white handled little pocket knife that had a bead chain dangling from it. Young sharp eyes revealed it to be a standard keychain knife from a drug store. When the wall mounted pencil sharpener self destructed, the teacher had asked who has a pocket knife, but this was Glen Haven Elementary school, home to Mrs. Jacobs, also known as the knife confiscating witch, so nobody was very forth coming with a knife. I had glanced over at my friend Dave, who glanced over at our friend Ev, and nobody was breaking any quick draw records reaching for a knife, even if it was Donna Lascolla in need. Every boy in the school had a crush on Donna, but self sacrifice has it's limits. I guess we had visions of taking out a knife to help, and by some black magic, Mrs. Jacobs would smell the prey like a shark smells the tiniest amount of blood in the water, and come swooping in for the kill. The faint scent of 3-In-1 oil in this case bringing the evil.
All in all, I think more number 2 pencils got sharpened with a keychain pocket knife when I was a kid, than with those junk things on the wall. I often wondered in the contractor who supplied the school with those pencil sharpeners ever had to give back some of the money to the school board. By the time it got cold enough to wear a coat to school, only half the pencil sharpeners were working.
But back to knives, it was a good time to be a kid that was a knife accumulator. The amount of cheap keychain knives at the drug store kept even a half broke kid in knives. There were the cracked ice ones mentioned, the black handled ones, then there was even the all metal ones, with a folded over piece of sheet metal for a handle, and one thin sheep foot blade. They were usually made by some of the same companies that made the nailclippers they had on another cardboard stand-up display by the register. Trim was one brand I remember. They had a deluxe one with three blades. The usual sheep foot, a nail file, and a combination screw driver and cap lifter. Of course, back then, nobody even blinked an eye at the sight of knife in public. You could take out a knife to cut something, and nobody called the police, the swat team, or the Marines. Not even harsh language. Packages came all wrapped up in heavy brown paper and white twine, and without a sharp knife, you just were not going to open that package.
Now, I guess it's a whole different era. I never see any knife displays as I check out of a drug store, box store, or even a sporting goods store. Knives have become a kind of specialized item. God forbid a knife display with cheap knives at the check out counter that any kid with some spare change could get. Now a keychain knife seems to be a more expensive item like A.G. Russell's ultimate penknife, or a Victorinox classic. But then, back when I was a kid, you didn't see people trying to poke open package with a ball point pen, or saw their way with a key. Unless of course they thought Mrs Jacobs was around.
And there were knives. Everybody carried a knife back then. There were the tradesmen with thier sturdy barlow's and war surplus TL-29's. truck drivers with all kinds of two blade jacks, the boy scouts with our trusty "Official" scout knives with the motto "Be Prepared" on the handle. In the fall there was lots of leather handle little finn's seen on belts, not all made by Case. There were the Kabar, Western, Boker, and some others around. And then there were the keychain knives.
It was expected back then, if a man had his pants on, there was a knife in one of the pockets of them. Even a suit type was expected to have a knife, even if it was the ubiquitous drug store keychain knife. They were the common knife of the day, and I remember every drug store, five and dime, and auto parts store, had the cardboard display stands up by the cash register. There were the cardboard holders of the black plastic combs that were all of ten cents. There was also the cheap chrome plated nail clippers on a cardboard display. Then there was the yellow cardboard stand of little keychain knives. I only remember this tiny bit of history trivia because being one of the afflicted, a knife knut, I was tuned into seeing knives at a young age, remembering where I saw them, and how much of my meager allowance I had to part with to get one. It didn't matter that I had a knife, it's the curse of our affliction as incurable knife nuts to accumulate. And as kids, we did accumulate.
For some odd reason, the vast bulk of these knives seemed to have the old cracked ice celluloid scales. Towards the end of the 50's, modern plastic imitation pearl seemed to come into use. That was okay, at least the plastic didn't rust and pit the carbon steel blades these .50 cent knives had. They were thin, sometimes as thin as a sheet of paper foldd over a few times. But carbon steel they were, and the thin blades could take a wicked edge with little effort. We'd sit around stropping these cheap knives until the hairs on our arms would just jump off at the approach of the blade. Once, Bobby Ryerson got his little keychain knife so sharp, that he cut a piece of rope and somehow his leg got in the way and he had to get a couple stiches in his thigh. His folks wern't that impressed at how sharp he'd gotten this little keychain knife. Later, there was the rough black composition that was some sort of moulded plastic that was supposed to look like some kind of jigged stuff, but nobody was fooled by it.
Even women carried one in their purse. I was in the forth grade when I recall one time, the pencil sharpener on the wall broke. But then, most of them seemed to break by midyear. This one time, one of the kids was trying to sharpen a pencil and when the sharpener fell off the wall while she was cranking it, our teacher, Mrs. Howell, just reached in her purse and took out a white handled little pocket knife that had a bead chain dangling from it. Young sharp eyes revealed it to be a standard keychain knife from a drug store. When the wall mounted pencil sharpener self destructed, the teacher had asked who has a pocket knife, but this was Glen Haven Elementary school, home to Mrs. Jacobs, also known as the knife confiscating witch, so nobody was very forth coming with a knife. I had glanced over at my friend Dave, who glanced over at our friend Ev, and nobody was breaking any quick draw records reaching for a knife, even if it was Donna Lascolla in need. Every boy in the school had a crush on Donna, but self sacrifice has it's limits. I guess we had visions of taking out a knife to help, and by some black magic, Mrs. Jacobs would smell the prey like a shark smells the tiniest amount of blood in the water, and come swooping in for the kill. The faint scent of 3-In-1 oil in this case bringing the evil.
All in all, I think more number 2 pencils got sharpened with a keychain pocket knife when I was a kid, than with those junk things on the wall. I often wondered in the contractor who supplied the school with those pencil sharpeners ever had to give back some of the money to the school board. By the time it got cold enough to wear a coat to school, only half the pencil sharpeners were working.
But back to knives, it was a good time to be a kid that was a knife accumulator. The amount of cheap keychain knives at the drug store kept even a half broke kid in knives. There were the cracked ice ones mentioned, the black handled ones, then there was even the all metal ones, with a folded over piece of sheet metal for a handle, and one thin sheep foot blade. They were usually made by some of the same companies that made the nailclippers they had on another cardboard stand-up display by the register. Trim was one brand I remember. They had a deluxe one with three blades. The usual sheep foot, a nail file, and a combination screw driver and cap lifter. Of course, back then, nobody even blinked an eye at the sight of knife in public. You could take out a knife to cut something, and nobody called the police, the swat team, or the Marines. Not even harsh language. Packages came all wrapped up in heavy brown paper and white twine, and without a sharp knife, you just were not going to open that package.
Now, I guess it's a whole different era. I never see any knife displays as I check out of a drug store, box store, or even a sporting goods store. Knives have become a kind of specialized item. God forbid a knife display with cheap knives at the check out counter that any kid with some spare change could get. Now a keychain knife seems to be a more expensive item like A.G. Russell's ultimate penknife, or a Victorinox classic. But then, back when I was a kid, you didn't see people trying to poke open package with a ball point pen, or saw their way with a key. Unless of course they thought Mrs Jacobs was around.
I really can imagine when the boys & girls in those days sitting in the class room and a teacher asking for a knife for sharping a pen or a piece of chalk.
