Since when do we find weather the new source of chills,
goose bumps and scary things that go creak in the night? Why do we find it entertaining when the
weather person gets on the tube and tells us it could be bad weather ahead, (assuming
the parameters don’t change over the next three days) and the facebookers
announce that they have traded their car for a two-person dog sled and 100
pounds of potatoes.
I use to work with a bunch of Texans, who at the mere
mention of snowy driving conditions, would raid the vending machines and horde
candy above the ceiling tiles in their office. And I want to say categorically, no evidence of cannibalism was
ever suspected or even found. At least
they had good reasons. They never saw
snow before, but the rest of us?
Anyway, the Medina knife gun show was pretty
empty. A lot of vendors got snowed in at
home, frightened off or just plain figured it would be poor show. And they were right. Saturday was very empty, but I don’t know
why. It took me about 45 minutes to
drive in because I slowed down to 40-45 but the roads were drivable. It would have been a good day for bargain
hunters. Most of the vendors needed a
sale and could be talked down to a better price.
By Sunday the roads were clear and we got a few more
walk-arounds and quite a few more walking sellers. I don’t know if it was the need to raise
cash for Christmas bills, got a better one for Christmas, or had too much money
tied up in weapons. Many people had simply
stocked up in anticipation of a presidency that would order out the troops to
go house to house in search of guns, bullets and any knives other than the
plastic ones you get at Mickey D’s.
Don’t sit there smug you muzzle loaders, you and those 1776
assault rifles would have been next!
I welcomed one man to my table, telling him he was free to
handle the knives. He confessed he was
just looking, cause he didn’t have any money.
I told him that’s okay, because none of the knives were for sale.
I’ve got to give him credit.
He came back with “Except for what sticks to my hands,” but I informed
him that I was sure that I and the police would manage to get the knife
free. He didn’t buy anything, but then
again he said he didn’t have any money.
One of my potential customers had some specific needs and no
matter how I tried I couldn’t find the right knife for him. He was, or perhaps I should say, is an
elderly fellow with a bad case of the shakes.
The shakes rob him of both strength and dexterity. He wanted a knife that he could open with one
hand and it would lock open. It had to
be a small, quality knife with a pocket clip and of course it had to be cheap.
Now cheap is an interesting word. Some people think an $8 dollar steak meal is
expensive and others think a $45 steak meal, without bar bill, is cheap. I understand it. But personally, when I have to purchase
something to make-up for my inabilities I expect to pay more, rather than less.
I had a small, Gerber with a great price, but it was too
hard to open and didn’t have a pocket clip.
I showed him a Spyderco Delica, too big and too hard to move the blade
with his fingers. I showed him several
others but they were too hard to open single-handed and he insisted it had to
be a one-hand opener and small. Frankly,
small was his enemy. With his loss of
strength and dexterity, a larger knife would have given him more surface to grip
and better leverage, but he insisted on small.
I skipped over the Benchmades with flippers and showed him a nice sized
auto. I thought I had a winning card for
this fellow. Boker makes a small auto
for 45 bucks. Too expensive for
him. I had to admit defeat and send him
on his way.
 |
| Boker Auto |
I don’t think he’ll find a knife to match his rigid
expectations.
I also had a fellow with an absolutely beautiful damascus
knife that he wanted to sell. I don’t
have a picture of it, but let’s give words a try.
It had a shape similar to a Gurkha Kukri made from 250-some
fold damascus steel. The damascus had
strong lines and formed a raindrop pattern.
The blade edge was split into front and back edges by a decorative
structure resembling a single 3 inch row of corn kernels still on the cob.
It only took one look to realize that it was a classic wall
hanging, ‘barbeque knife’ for the man cave.
My seller confided in me, when I indicated that as much as I liked the
knife it wasn’t right for me, that he was in a financial bind. He just bought a gun and owed his buddy 80
bucks. Still, there wasn’t a maker’s
mark or name stamp on the knife and it just looked too good. I knew that even for 80 bucks, it might take
years to find the right buyer.
Did I miss the bargain of the show? Did someone sell everything they had to buy
this pearl of great price? I don’t
know. But I doubt it.
