I was making some room in my safe when I ran across a pocket knife an old friend of mine gave me a while back. He passed but it seems like yesterday I was shooting 22's off his porch. He was a cool guy. Not sure how old he was because I'm old and when I was a kid, he was old then too. Had those hands that had skin like an old catchers mitt. A mans hands that used them all his life.
I'd stop by his house going home from work every time I could. I kept a 22 rifle in the trunk and he had his single shot. I remember when I got my 1957 Marlin 39A lever action by. That was a mistake because that's the gun he wanted to shoot. So we would just take turns and he'd tell stories. He could still shoot great. Anyway, he saw me with some tactical knife one day and asked to take a look at it. He laughed and showed me this piece of junk knife he had. I think he'd been waiting to do this. That knife would cut air it was so sharp. He must have honed it every day. Mine was expensive and sharp, but I learned there was sharp and there was SHARP! It made me laugh.
I miss shooting with my friend.
I'd stop by his house going home from work every time I could. I kept a 22 rifle in the trunk and he had his single shot. I remember when I got my 1957 Marlin 39A lever action by. That was a mistake because that's the gun he wanted to shoot. So we would just take turns and he'd tell stories. He could still shoot great. Anyway, he saw me with some tactical knife one day and asked to take a look at it. He laughed and showed me this piece of junk knife he had. I think he'd been waiting to do this. That knife would cut air it was so sharp. He must have honed it every day. Mine was expensive and sharp, but I learned there was sharp and there was SHARP! It made me laugh.
I miss shooting with my friend.
