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July 14, 2005
Seraphic Knife Rebbe
Choose from a wide
selection of knives
at Nashville Knife Shop or
make your own
. Straight
razors also.
|
I'm taking a short break from How I Married Karen. Believe it or not, dredging up all these wonderful old memories can be stressful. As Karen has rightly pointed out, it is a way of removing ourselves from our daily grief, for our romance was a time in our lives when Ariel was not yet alive.
When I was a child, I had a small collection of pocket knives. My father was a chaplain in the US Army and every so often he was posted to a far-off Army base where he would perform holiday services for our Jewish soldiers. I hated it when my father went away. But I absolutely loved it when he returned, for he always brought a gift, and it was always a pocket knife. The knives were never anything fancy. Just simple one or two blade affairs. I reveled in the seemingly gigantic power these little knives gave me: being able to whittle a piece of wood, carving my initials into a tree--yes, trees do grow in Brooklyn, playing mumblety-peg. Most of all, there was the simple relationship, almost primal, of man and his oldest tool. I remember the feel of the knives in my pocket. The weight of these small pieces of steel. The knives made me feel, well, important. They also made me feel "capable" -- the best word I can come up with. I loved the smooth action of the blades when they opened, and the decisive click when they snapped shut. There was one knife from Greenland that was a bit too decisive. My mother took it away from me when she discovered that my fingers were absolutely lacerated with deep gashes.
I'm sad, almost ashamed to confess that not one of those pocket knives is still around. When you're a kid you do not realize that the "junk" in your closet will someday be a treasure you yearn to once agan hold in your hands.
A few years ago, surfing the net, I came across Vintage Knives. An on-line site that specializes in the sale of beautuful knives, some old, some new, some made exclusively for them. Immediately, I was seized with a nostalgia so powerful that I wrote to the owner, Billy Cochran, and we have been writing to each other ever since. We are close friends. An unlikely cyber friendship deep as the ocean. After Ariel's death, this pious Christian offered genuine comfort that is hard to measure.
The Talmud teaches: "Aseh L'cha Rav." Make for yourself a teacher. Billy, an incredibly generous and honest family man, is my Rebbe, more precisely, My Knife Rebbe. He knows, well, everything there is to know about knives. My female readers are rolling their eyeballs. I can just hear them groaning, "Boys and their toys!" To which I say, "True, very true!" But look at Randall Handmade Knives. These are the knives that I collect. This is great American folk art, as finely wrought as Chippendale furniture, as elegant as Revere silver. And if you should want to purchase a Randall knife well, don't hold your breath, there's a four year waiting list. That's right, four years! You only have to wait four months for a Bentley automobile.
America is filled with brilliant knife craftsmen who make knives that are as beautiful and elegant as any works of art in any collection in any museum. Take a look at the stunning hunting knives made by Jim "Treeman" Behring.They are, in fact, homages to the first great American Knifemaker William Scagel. I own two of Jim's knives and let me tell you, I will not be using them. Ever. They have almost doubled in value and I only bought them five years ago.
Anyway, surf through Vintage Knives. Their motto is "Yesterday in the palm of your hand." Take it from this boy who loves his toys, they speak the truth. And if you're looking for a pretty solid investment, well, you can't lose buying a Randall Knife. In fact, there's a brisk trade in Randall's on e-Bay. There are people who buy a Randall on Monday and put it back up for auction on Tuesday. Randall knives rise in value that quickly. I love market capitalism. As my friend Jackie says: "The more capital, the less poverty."
I will be returning to How I Married Karen in a day or two. B'lee neder.
Posted by Robert J. Avrech at July 14, 2005 10:37 AM
Comments
Seraphic Secret is private property, that's right, it's an extension of our home, and as such, Karen and I have instituted two Seraphic Rules and we ask commentors to act respectfully.
1. No profanity.2. No Israel bashing. We debate, we discuss, we are respectful. You know what Israel bashing is. The world is full of it. Seraphic Secret is one of the few places in the world that will not tolerate this form of anti-Semitism. That's it. Break either of these rules and you will be banned.
Robert, I would like you to know, as one of your loyal female readers, my eyes are still in my head and have not rolled anywhere! But my husband is also a man who loves his toys, as you know. Toys, hobbies, collections all aid in soothing the soul.
The eloquent description of your father bringing home the knives, transported me back to a time when I would anxiously wait for my dad (the school teacher) to come home with papers to grade. I would sit tall next to him, feeling so important and proud, while he allowed me to help him place the little red marks. Thanks for evoking that memory.
Posted by: Randi at July 14, 2005 05:27 PM
Randi: Thanks soooo much. I was afraid my lady readers would lose interest--fast. I just realized that your husband the robot-builder extraordinare will probably be fascinated by Randall Knives. They are works of art like you wouldn't believe.
Did you father teach high school, grade school? Any particular subject? Glad I could help evoke pleasant childhood memories.
Posted by: Robert Avrech at July 14, 2005 05:53 PM
Robert, my father was an elementary school teacher, 4th and 5th grade mainly. Kids loved him, parents loved him...he died following a 3 1/2 year battle with luekemia in Jan. 1966. At the time he was teaching a 5th grade class...letters poured in to my mother on how much he meant to them, their children, and how he would be missed. Thank you for asking about him.
I will tell my husband to have a look at those knives!
Posted by: Randi at July 14, 2005 06:51 PM
Randi: I am very sorry to hear about your father's premature death. He must have been a very special man judging by his daughter.
Posted by: Robert Avrech at July 14, 2005 07:06 PM
I enjoyed looking at the knives. I would never claim to be an expert, but there is a certain appreciation in the work of a master craftsman. Weight and balance and form and function. Very nice.
Posted by: Jack at July 14, 2005 07:34 PM
Jack: Glad you apprciate Randall knives. They are also sharp as razors.
Posted by: Robert Avrech at July 14, 2005 07:50 PM
Robert, thank you for saying that...I only know my dad from the viewpoint of a ten year old girl...I have often wondered what he was like from this vantage point.
By the way, checked out those knives, and I can appreciate the artistry that goes into them, even if I am "a girl"!
Posted by: Randi at July 14, 2005 07:57 PM
You would not be who you are if your father was not a wonderful man. It just could not happen.
Glad you like the knives. They really are great art and our GI's have used them in combat since WWII. A soldier needs a blade he can absolutely put his trust in. And Randall blades are true.
Posted by: Robert Avrech at July 14, 2005 08:06 PM
Once, not all that long ago, I watched someone cut a challah with one of these masterfully made hunting knives you speak so fondly of. It struck me as odd, but in fact I was awed.
Posted by: Pearl at July 14, 2005 08:19 PM
I am not rolling my eyeballs. During college I dated a Marine who went off to the Persian Gulf War. He bought me a Gerber Guardian knife before he left. It was a beauty. I have an appreciation for the craftmanship that goes into knives.
And when he returned, I had a present waiting for him....a Glock 9 mm (I think I am the only Jewish girl I know who belonged to a gun club, read Guns & Ammo, and loved to target shoot, but that's a whole other story).
Posted by: Stacey at July 14, 2005 08:51 PM
Pearl: Cutting a knife with a handmade hunting knife Hmmm? What an odd idea... You hand around with some very strange people.
Posted by: Robert Avrech at July 14, 2005 09:07 PM
Stacey: They should bottle you and put a big K on it so other Jewish women can purchase whatever makes you tick. Bravo!
Posted by: Robert Avrech at July 14, 2005 09:11 PM
Robert, your posts are always delightful -- but then, I'm someone who would rather watch a good martial arts movie than a syrupy romance or 'chick flick' any day.
Yeah, knives are pretty much a guy thing. Nevertheless, I can appreciate your appreciation of them. It's easy to forget in our high tech age how important, vitally important, such implements were in earlier times. The works of art you rightly praise are a tribute to human skill, ingenuity, and creativity.
Posted by: Tamara at July 15, 2005 03:39 AM
Tamara: in this day and age when we just open a drawer a pull out a knife we forget that not too many years ago, the male members of the Native American tribes would gladly trade a daughter or two for a few sharp steel knives from the Europeans. Not something I advocate.
There are a few dozen craftsmen in America right now who are making knives that are stunning works of art but no museum will show them because well, it's not pc. A majority of the craftsmen come from Southern or Western states and none went to art colleges. They are all intensely patriotic, G-d bless them. Glad so many of my female readers are so open to the idea of hand made knives.
Posted by: Robert at July 15, 2005 08:25 AM
This nice Jewish girl likes knives and guns and movies with car chases and explosions.
Posted by: Yehudit at July 17, 2005 01:01 PM