The old man got out of bed that morning, and pulled his pants on. A slight jingle was heard as his keyring rattled, dangling from a carabiner clipped to the left hand belt loop of the pants. He had a long habit of carrying his keyring clipped on his pants, so if he had to move suddenly in the night, all he needed was there.
His wife sometimes kidded him in a loving way, calling his keyring his 'Bat ring', for the minature impliments he carried on it. Indeed, there were only two keys on the keyring, those of his pickup truck and the house key. The other things were a tiny flashlight no bigger than a quarter, his old army issue P-38 can opener, a slim aluminum capsule for his arthitis meds, a Sears 4-way keychain screwdriver, and the knife. The man called it his pen knife, but it was a Victorinox classic. It was small enough to go through the security in the federal buildings of his native Washington D.C., but it was enough to get the job done, as he put it.
The man had grown up in an era where if a man had his pants on, he had a knife in the pocket. In those long gone days, it was called a pen knife. Most men carried a small two blade little knife, good for most things that needed a sharp edge. Opening mail, cardboard boxes, twine, and whatever was needed. But this man had been a little different. He wanted a bit more in his daily pen knife. Then a co-worker had shown him a classic. In the man's eyes it was the perfect keychain pen knife. For a time he had carried it on it's ring on his keyring. But then he'd made a leather pouch sheath that went on the keyring, so he could just slide out the knife and use it, without having to take it off of the ring, but still carried on it when not in use.
As he dressed that morning, he heard his wife call up to him that the clothes dryer was not working. He went down to investigate, and found the door latch had broken. Stooping to check out what tools he'd need from his toolbox, he saw the broken part was in the door itself, and the door was a clamshell design with just two phiilips screws holding it together on each side. The old man took out his classic, and the SD tip of the nailfile blade fit the screws almost perfect. He took out the screws on three sides, and used the nailfile blade to slightly and carefully pry the two halves of the sheet metal door apart. Reaching inside, he took out the broken part.
By this time, his grandson had come over to visit. The two of them got in the old mans truck and drove out to get the replacement part.
Coming out of the big box hardware store, they saw a young man trying to get a large window fan out of the box and into his small subcompact hatchback. He was stabbing the box with a Bic pen, trying to tear it open, because the box was too big to get into the car, but the unpacked fan would fit. Even as they watched, he started to saw with a key at the heavy cardboard.
"Hang on young fella. There's better ways to do that." said the old man.
"Well, I gotta get this fan out of the box so it will fit in my car. I want to get it back to my dorm room at school, but they got it boxed up pretty good."
The old man took out his little classic from the keyriing sheath, and working carefully, neatly slit the box open all along the top, then down the side. The fan lifted right out and went into the little hatchback.
"Thanks mister! I guess a gotta get one those little knives." said the college student.
Driving home with the part, the boy looked at his grandfather.
"I can't believe you took apart the dryer door with that little classic. Why not just use a real tool, Grandpa?" the boy asked.
"Well pup, by the time I squated down and got comfortable to see what was wrong and what tools I would need, it was too hard on the old joints to get back up again, so's I just used my pen knife. It worked just fine."
They returned with the right part, and while the old man squated down again, his grandson ran to get the toolbox. By time he'd got back, the old man had snapped in the new latch, and had half the screws back in the door. The boy watched as the old man carefully replaced each screw, using the tip of the classic nail file blade to tighten them down.
"You're unreal grandpa. I can't believe you fixed the dryer with that tiny thing."
Done with the job, they went out to the back porch, to enjoy the cool breeze. The boy asked if the his grandpa wanted anything, and the old man said a cold beer from the refridgerator would be nice. The grandson got the beer for the old man, but forgot it was an import and needed an opener.
"I'll get one grandpa, just hold on." the boy said.
"No, just watch and learn. pup." The old man told him.
The boy watched as the old man opened the screwdriver tipped nail file blade, and carefully worked the SD tip under the crimped flange of the beer cap. By the time a few seconds had passed, the old man had loosened the cap enough around that he placed his thumb under the edge and popped it off. He took a long swig of the cold beer.
"Dang grandpa, is there much you can't do with that tiny thing?"
The old man just smiled.
"Sure, there's lots of things, but in a day to day life in modern suburbia, my little pen knife is just fine for 98% of stuff I run into. If it won't, then that's why there's an emergency tool kit behind the seat of my old pickup, and there's a tool box in the workroom here at home. But most times, if you just take a minute to stand back and look at it, most things don't require a lot of tools to fix. Mostly just common sense."
"Did your dad carry a little penknife like that" the boy asked.
"No, in his day, it was alittle different. They had a knife, but they didn't have a classic. I still have the old mans and a few of those old knives from back then."
They went in the house and from a drawer in the desk in the den the old man took a small wooden box out. Sitting it on the desk top, he opened that box, and took out a small penknife sized pocket knife. It had brown jigged bone handles worn so from years of use that the jigging was faint outlines. The old carbon steel blades had been sharpened down to almost toothpicks, and were dark grey from staining. The inside of the springs were a little rusty. The name Case was on the tang of the knife.
"That was your great grandpa's pocket knife. He carried that thing for 40 years. That's what a pen knife was back in those days. But things change, and life changes. I like a little more tool in my pen knife than they had in those days."
The boy looked over the old knife in his hand.
"It's kind of neat in a way, but it's so limited compared to yours. No screwdriver or sissors, no tweezer. and no way to put it on a keychain. Didn't great grandad know about sak's?"
"Sure he did, but he'd never use one. You see, in those days when he grew up, there wasn't any good stainless steel, and plastic was considered to be a cheap material that was second rate at best. He was a product of his age. But when I was growing up just after the second war, there had been great progress made in stainless steel, and plastic was becoming common. The modern plastics are a far cry from what my dad saw in the 1930's. Today, you can get a little pen knife with stainless steel blades and plastic handles that are better than your great grandpa could have got with any material of his day. And cheaper too, due to modern production tooling."
The boy held the old knife in his hand, then looked at his grandpa's little classic in his other hand, comparing them. The old and new.
"I guess you could say that the classic is the pen knife of the 21st century." said the boy.
The old man thought about that for a quiet moment.
"I guess I can't argue with that, pup." he said.
His wife sometimes kidded him in a loving way, calling his keyring his 'Bat ring', for the minature impliments he carried on it. Indeed, there were only two keys on the keyring, those of his pickup truck and the house key. The other things were a tiny flashlight no bigger than a quarter, his old army issue P-38 can opener, a slim aluminum capsule for his arthitis meds, a Sears 4-way keychain screwdriver, and the knife. The man called it his pen knife, but it was a Victorinox classic. It was small enough to go through the security in the federal buildings of his native Washington D.C., but it was enough to get the job done, as he put it.
The man had grown up in an era where if a man had his pants on, he had a knife in the pocket. In those long gone days, it was called a pen knife. Most men carried a small two blade little knife, good for most things that needed a sharp edge. Opening mail, cardboard boxes, twine, and whatever was needed. But this man had been a little different. He wanted a bit more in his daily pen knife. Then a co-worker had shown him a classic. In the man's eyes it was the perfect keychain pen knife. For a time he had carried it on it's ring on his keyring. But then he'd made a leather pouch sheath that went on the keyring, so he could just slide out the knife and use it, without having to take it off of the ring, but still carried on it when not in use.
As he dressed that morning, he heard his wife call up to him that the clothes dryer was not working. He went down to investigate, and found the door latch had broken. Stooping to check out what tools he'd need from his toolbox, he saw the broken part was in the door itself, and the door was a clamshell design with just two phiilips screws holding it together on each side. The old man took out his classic, and the SD tip of the nailfile blade fit the screws almost perfect. He took out the screws on three sides, and used the nailfile blade to slightly and carefully pry the two halves of the sheet metal door apart. Reaching inside, he took out the broken part.
By this time, his grandson had come over to visit. The two of them got in the old mans truck and drove out to get the replacement part.
Coming out of the big box hardware store, they saw a young man trying to get a large window fan out of the box and into his small subcompact hatchback. He was stabbing the box with a Bic pen, trying to tear it open, because the box was too big to get into the car, but the unpacked fan would fit. Even as they watched, he started to saw with a key at the heavy cardboard.
"Hang on young fella. There's better ways to do that." said the old man.
"Well, I gotta get this fan out of the box so it will fit in my car. I want to get it back to my dorm room at school, but they got it boxed up pretty good."
The old man took out his little classic from the keyriing sheath, and working carefully, neatly slit the box open all along the top, then down the side. The fan lifted right out and went into the little hatchback.
"Thanks mister! I guess a gotta get one those little knives." said the college student.
Driving home with the part, the boy looked at his grandfather.
"I can't believe you took apart the dryer door with that little classic. Why not just use a real tool, Grandpa?" the boy asked.
"Well pup, by the time I squated down and got comfortable to see what was wrong and what tools I would need, it was too hard on the old joints to get back up again, so's I just used my pen knife. It worked just fine."
They returned with the right part, and while the old man squated down again, his grandson ran to get the toolbox. By time he'd got back, the old man had snapped in the new latch, and had half the screws back in the door. The boy watched as the old man carefully replaced each screw, using the tip of the classic nail file blade to tighten them down.
"You're unreal grandpa. I can't believe you fixed the dryer with that tiny thing."
Done with the job, they went out to the back porch, to enjoy the cool breeze. The boy asked if the his grandpa wanted anything, and the old man said a cold beer from the refridgerator would be nice. The grandson got the beer for the old man, but forgot it was an import and needed an opener.
"I'll get one grandpa, just hold on." the boy said.
"No, just watch and learn. pup." The old man told him.
The boy watched as the old man opened the screwdriver tipped nail file blade, and carefully worked the SD tip under the crimped flange of the beer cap. By the time a few seconds had passed, the old man had loosened the cap enough around that he placed his thumb under the edge and popped it off. He took a long swig of the cold beer.
"Dang grandpa, is there much you can't do with that tiny thing?"
The old man just smiled.
"Sure, there's lots of things, but in a day to day life in modern suburbia, my little pen knife is just fine for 98% of stuff I run into. If it won't, then that's why there's an emergency tool kit behind the seat of my old pickup, and there's a tool box in the workroom here at home. But most times, if you just take a minute to stand back and look at it, most things don't require a lot of tools to fix. Mostly just common sense."
"Did your dad carry a little penknife like that" the boy asked.
"No, in his day, it was alittle different. They had a knife, but they didn't have a classic. I still have the old mans and a few of those old knives from back then."
They went in the house and from a drawer in the desk in the den the old man took a small wooden box out. Sitting it on the desk top, he opened that box, and took out a small penknife sized pocket knife. It had brown jigged bone handles worn so from years of use that the jigging was faint outlines. The old carbon steel blades had been sharpened down to almost toothpicks, and were dark grey from staining. The inside of the springs were a little rusty. The name Case was on the tang of the knife.
"That was your great grandpa's pocket knife. He carried that thing for 40 years. That's what a pen knife was back in those days. But things change, and life changes. I like a little more tool in my pen knife than they had in those days."
The boy looked over the old knife in his hand.
"It's kind of neat in a way, but it's so limited compared to yours. No screwdriver or sissors, no tweezer. and no way to put it on a keychain. Didn't great grandad know about sak's?"
"Sure he did, but he'd never use one. You see, in those days when he grew up, there wasn't any good stainless steel, and plastic was considered to be a cheap material that was second rate at best. He was a product of his age. But when I was growing up just after the second war, there had been great progress made in stainless steel, and plastic was becoming common. The modern plastics are a far cry from what my dad saw in the 1930's. Today, you can get a little pen knife with stainless steel blades and plastic handles that are better than your great grandpa could have got with any material of his day. And cheaper too, due to modern production tooling."
The boy held the old knife in his hand, then looked at his grandpa's little classic in his other hand, comparing them. The old and new.
"I guess you could say that the classic is the pen knife of the 21st century." said the boy.
The old man thought about that for a quiet moment.
"I guess I can't argue with that, pup." he said.
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I hope the college kid buys a real Vic and not some knock-off piece of junk.
