I got an early Christmas present from my Grandfather this week. It’s an antique kukri knife that he bought during a visit to Nepal.
I won’t lie to you, when I was a kid, I had fantasies about owning this knife. Back during the Reagan administration, it seemed likely that civilization would collapse and I would ride through the wastelands carrying a manly knife like this on my belt.
The only thing I couldn’t decide was what color I would have my stallion, black, which is a totally awesome horse color, or palomino, like Roy Rogers’ horse.
The blade shows the wear of decades of practical use, and right now I’m undecided whether I should take the time to polish it to a working edge.
As much as I would like a good zombie-hacker around the house, it seems a shame to ruin the patina on an antique.