What "Traditional Knife" are ya totin' today?

black mamba said:
The wife and I are heading out shortly for lunch at Cheesecake Factory and then the F1 movie. Packin' the old Schrade stockman.

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Sounds like a great day Jeff! IMG_9691.jpeg
 
afishhunter said:
I had a "Made in USA" branded 2 blade jack knife with outgassing cell covers.
The blades above the well were solid black. The portion of the blades in the well when closed were still silver. The backsprings were also black, and the bolsters and pins were heavily tarnished.

I don't know who made it, tho I suspect it was Camillus, or maybe Utica or Ulster ... if Ulster ever made a contract knife without their name on it somewhere .

It didn't have shell construction, so it (probably) wasn't Imperial or Colonial, unless it was much older than I thought, or a "no name" Imperial Pioneer/Ikco or Colonial Forester, intended for service/gas station point of sales in the 1950's and 1960's.
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I have a Craftsman Stockman that when I showed it here a couple of years ago, and speculated it had been made by Schrade since it was basically a Schrade 881 in Craftsman disguise, two fine porchismos ~ Randy TheChunk91 TheChunk91 , and Steve SteveC SteveC informed me it had been made by Ulster.

Of course, Ulster and Schrade were intertwined at some point...
 
Twelve Twenty-Five

In the small town of Alcobaça lived an old clockmaker named Artur who had never left Portugal but claimed to understand time better than anyone else. On his cluttered workbench between pendulums and pocket watches rested a simple MAM friction folder. Its beechwood handle still smooth after years of sharpening pencils and slicing apples during the lunch hour, which always struck at precisely twelve twenty-three.

One day his apprentice, Paulo, asked Artur why he always used the same knife.

Because it is reliable, said Artur. It does not lock, but it does not fail. It bends to your will but obeys the laws of the hand.

Paulo blinked. He had hoped for a more magical answer. Perhaps the knife had been forged by a blacksmith under the full moon or fallen from the sky like Newton’s apple. Instead, it was just … consistent.

Artur smiled and continued polishing a brass gear. You see, young man, all things in life are uncertain. Weather changes. People change. Even clocks drift without correction. But this knife -

- he lifted it in the sunlight -

- it knows exactly what it is. It does not try to be clever or dangerous. It simply is.

Years later, after the workshop passed to Paulo’s now capable hands, he found the friction folder tucked in a drawer next to a crumpled napkin covered in equations ... and a note.

Friction holds it together and makes it useful. Time wears it smooth.

Paulo used the knife for simple tasks, even preparing meals, like cutting cured meats for petiscos. And each time Paulo used the knife, he remembered the man who had shown him that even the simplest things hold meaning and have use.

Like Artur before him, lunch was still at precisely twelve twenty-three. Paulo had no reason why. He smiled, thoughtful. It simply was.


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