Let’s get to the nub right away, are we sharp freaks, or is it the only way to go?
Sherie (my wife) and Shirley (Sherie’s mother) have been wronged. Suffered at the hand of inadequate cutlery. Protested and whined while preparing the repast, darting critical and expectant glances in my direction, as I…...... decadently in my cups, enjoyed the day. Since we came to Maui, they have done the cooking, although I am in the barrel tonight. You wouldn’t think for a minute, that it had anything to do with my belated, but expert, attention to this most consternating situation?
So strutting to the kitchen, dragging the drawer from beneath the counter, from where it cowered, I surveyed the….hmmm… junkyard. The condo’s drawer of knives….........I use the term loosely, is an abomination. Multiple serrated knives, missharpened, cheap, certainly maligned, tortured, and abused, lay prostrate, miserable in the depths of the drawer. A few standard knives, with edges only my bench grinder could bring back to a remedial state, looked hopefully my way. But alas, only one was capable of repair with simple measures….........which I did not have at my disposal.
Lingering at the mall, having dined Vietnamese for lunch today, Sherie reminds me of her paramount vexation, the squeaking balcony sliding screens…....since they are actuated at a most unnatural hour by her habitually early rising spouse, namely me.
Aha, lubricant, and there in a deep corner recess of the mall, I spy a True Value. So, checking for my always anemic wallet, remembering the magic plastic, I jauntily press into the gloom, entering the premise with pessimism. But it is a first class hardware store, complete with helpful smiling faces dressed in aprons (no, not LJ leather), and those elfen customer reps jumped right to my assistance. I tell you, this store is from yesteryear. Found everthing (explanations coming) on my agenda with a passing custrep offhandedly showing me precisely the displays to satisfy my exacting needs. My quick hand extracts the WD40 can with its new sexy swiveling spray head. And two aisles later, following the swishing apron, I found with her offhanded direction, the sharpening stones. I looked after her, amazed, as she turned a corner, never to be seen again.
I digress…......I always digress.
I am definitely OCD, but a corollary…... with compulsion, comes excess.
To the story…....
....and looking throught the various stones and devices, I make a prudent decision, one of my lifelong few, I selected the smallest cheapest stone.
But at the periphery of my visual field, to the left, but slipping into recognition, and comprehension…....a selection of knives.
The biggest baddest Chicago Cutlery French Chef’s Knife comes to view and I purloin it, you must understand I had no long term use for the beast….........but I could give it to Shirley to take home…......what better recipient than Grandma. So I slyly slipped through the register with my treasures.
.......to make a too long story short, I sharpened the only knife that was repairable, and added the chef’s knife to it, in a special section in the drawer. So everyone was happy, because Shirley, I just found out, was looking at buying this very knife, yes, Chicago Cutlery Chef’s Knife. Serendipity.
However the real question, and I know by reading this forum, we are into sharp things….....
.........necessity, fetish, compulsion, or LJ habit…....what is the real answer…..........????
-- Jim, Anchorage Alaska