I was at the popular discount store Ross, or Ross's (for Lucas) and I was waiting for my dear wife to try on some clothes when I happened upon the knife section. Let me quickly state that I have no sporting interest in knives other than to prepare the food that I feed myself with, but recently had noticed that our own collection was showing signs of its age. Our knives may be only six years old, but it's comparable to dog years I think. I was noticing a boredom that comes from using old dull knives. When the, not just possibility, but inevitability of cutting your finger "emergency room bad" made preparing a simple meal sexy. Well I have found the rush of life again and it came from my 6" usuba vegetable clever. Oh yeah, I said cleaver. I popped this bad boy out of its package and almost lost a finger before a single intended cut was possible. The blood rushed in my veins, but there it would stay... for now. I rinsed it off, called my little lady into the kitchen and set up an apple on a wooden cutting board. Down comes my hand and the apple separates as if it were meant to exist in two pieces never the one that I liberated it from being. I have found hope for a brighter future, it comes from the danger I live in every time I open the knife drawer. Next up... 5" chef knife for cutting meat. Oh yeah, the fear will keep me young.
