Ethics & Blades
Dan DeVries
Although not a blade freak
I do subscribe to the gospel
according to Corb.
“Always keep an edge
on your knife, son.”
(I’m not Corb’s son.)
I’m not his father either.
His father was a bronc rider.
His mother was
a goat roper
and Corb’s the best country-punk
rocker in North America
I don’t ride broncs. Occasionally I eat goat.
About as often, I ride horseshit.
It stinks. There are
ethical issues, like when
you put a Gerber Famous Blade
in your dop kit in the Super 8
out by O’Hare
at the end of
a very hot trip
and then can’t find it
for two weeks and send
United Air a very polite email
about how they lost your
favorite knife and they (equally politely)
send you a $100 discount on your next trip
in the friendly skies,
and so you go and
search the ENTIRE internet
for the knife you lost
and it’s not made
anymore, but it’s really the one you want
and so you spend some more
time and money online
and because you don’t know
exactly how long an inch is
you do find something that
looks like the knife you lost
and you buy it, and it’s beautiful
except about one third the size
of the one you had in mind.
AND THEN, the lost is found.
But the edge is dull, and
you get to work with that stone
and although you should be listening to Corb sing
about keeping a sharp edge,
being one of very stony brain
you are instead
searching Wikipedia and all manner
of blade-related sites
for the knife you really want
(except with a blade you
will this time keep
an edge on) and watch
the White Sox beating
the Tigers, on ESPN2,
all the while pondering
whether it would be ethical
to use that $100 certificate
on your next trip
to Chicago, or perhaps
to Michigan, for the American League
Division Series.
(San Francisco, 8/23/06)
Although not a blade freak
I do subscribe to the gospel
according to Corb.
“Always keep an edge
on your knife, son.”
(I’m not Corb’s son.)
I’m not his father either.
His father was a bronc rider.
His mother was
a goat roper
and Corb’s the best country-punk
rocker in North America
I don’t ride broncs. Occasionally I eat goat.
About as often, I ride horseshit.
It stinks. There are
ethical issues, like when
you put a Gerber Famous Blade
in your dop kit in the Super 8
out by O’Hare
at the end of
a very hot trip
and then can’t find it
for two weeks and send
United Air a very polite email
about how they lost your
favorite knife and they (equally politely)
send you a $100 discount on your next trip
in the friendly skies,
and so you go and
search the ENTIRE internet
for the knife you lost
and it’s not made
anymore, but it’s really the one you want
and so you spend some more
time and money online
and because you don’t know
exactly how long an inch is
you do find something that
looks like the knife you lost
and you buy it, and it’s beautiful
except about one third the size
of the one you had in mind.
AND THEN, the lost is found.
But the edge is dull, and
you get to work with that stone
and although you should be listening to Corb sing
about keeping a sharp edge,
being one of very stony brain
you are instead
searching Wikipedia and all manner
of blade-related sites
for the knife you really want
(except with a blade you
will this time keep
an edge on) and watch
the White Sox beating
the Tigers, on ESPN2,
all the while pondering
whether it would be ethical
to use that $100 certificate
on your next trip
to Chicago, or perhaps
to Michigan, for the American League
Division Series.
(San Francisco, 8/23/06)
posted by Frans Vander Grove @ 2:16 PM
1 Comments:
At 5:30 AM,
David Schaafsma said…
First, just now, very first read: LOL, and partly because it gets to baseball in such an hilarious way. I like the pacing of it, the speed of it, rushing merrily to its somewhat unexpected conclusion. More later, but there's a lot of poetry in this poem, certainly.
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