Brand new, here, and my first post.
I have two favorite knives. Number Two was a Spuderco Harpy that I carried for many years until someone decided he needed it more than I did.
But my favorite knife for all time is one that was never made...but it gave me more pleasure than any I've ever owned. And I like to think that it brought as much pleasure to its maker as it did to me...The maker? Clyde Fischer. The knife? His folding skinner.
I first met Clyde in the early '80s, although I don't remember where or exactly when and our friendship grew over the years. I do remember that I wanted a folding skinner and he promised that he'd make me one so I'd "never have to buy another damn knife!". I was all for that, but the problem was that when he'd tell me he was ready to begin I'd invariably be broke...and then when I was ready toward the end of the '80s and into the '90s, his various infirmities precluded its creation...so our friendship became a series of hilarious telephone calls designing "my knife"...I think we both sorta knew that "my damn knife" would never be made but I in my naivete would throw out all sorts of suggestions and pronouncements which he would then gleefully shoot down. Often we'd get to laughing so much that I'd end up gasping for breath and teary-eyed...and whichever housekeeper/nurse was looking after him at the moment would take the phone away from him! I like to think he enjoyed all this as much as I did. He was one hell of a guy! Miss you, buddy!
I have two favorite knives. Number Two was a Spuderco Harpy that I carried for many years until someone decided he needed it more than I did.
But my favorite knife for all time is one that was never made...but it gave me more pleasure than any I've ever owned. And I like to think that it brought as much pleasure to its maker as it did to me...The maker? Clyde Fischer. The knife? His folding skinner.
I first met Clyde in the early '80s, although I don't remember where or exactly when and our friendship grew over the years. I do remember that I wanted a folding skinner and he promised that he'd make me one so I'd "never have to buy another damn knife!". I was all for that, but the problem was that when he'd tell me he was ready to begin I'd invariably be broke...and then when I was ready toward the end of the '80s and into the '90s, his various infirmities precluded its creation...so our friendship became a series of hilarious telephone calls designing "my knife"...I think we both sorta knew that "my damn knife" would never be made but I in my naivete would throw out all sorts of suggestions and pronouncements which he would then gleefully shoot down. Often we'd get to laughing so much that I'd end up gasping for breath and teary-eyed...and whichever housekeeper/nurse was looking after him at the moment would take the phone away from him! I like to think he enjoyed all this as much as I did. He was one hell of a guy! Miss you, buddy!
