As a kid, I remember every man around me having and using a pocket knife. One of my dad's employees even whittled a knife out of a scrap piece of wood and gave it to me. When I was six, I remember buying a SAK knock off from a vendor at an annual festival in our town square. Later, when I whipped it out to open a soda, my parents didn't object. That was a great feeling. I continued to buy knives from those street fair vendors through my early years, and now I don't even remember what happened to them all.