Homage to Pa Caffeine

Those of you who know my dad know that he is a wonderful man. Seriously, the man can do anything and he's never (to my knowledge) turned down a request for help. He's just a flat-out good guy. Everyone who knows him loves him and Dad likes them right back. If Pa Caffeine doesn't like you, well that means you are a worthless cur -- an oxygen thief depriving the worthies of the world their fair share of resources -- and you should immediately be banished to parts unknown. Through the years of my memory, I can only come up with a couple of people that Dad just did not like and he was right in each case -- the object of his scorn did turn out to be a bad apple.

Okay maybe I'm exaggerating a bit, but all my life my dad has been a "go to" guy. As my group of friends changed over the years, Dad adapted to each new group and they all thought he was a great guy. Even the neighborhood kids that weren't in my crowd seemed to be drawn to Dad. He was always willing to help fix the tail on a kite, untangle fishing line, put your chain back on your bike, or (as we aged) help change the oil or rotate the tires on a young man's dream machine. He could do all these things and he could do them better than anyone else I knew. The real feather in Dad's cap, though, was not that he COULD do these things, but that he WOULD do these things and never make you feel you were imposing on him.

Though Pa Caaffeine has always been a handy and helpful fellow to have around, the one activity he really shines at is sharpening knives. If you're male and you grew up in the South (at least the rural South) you know that a young man's worth often is inextricably tied to his pocket knife. Dad is a wizard when it comes to pocket knives. He keeps his knives razor sharp and he's always willing to hit a few licks on the rock for someone else's knife. There were times when I was a kid that I wondered if Dad's knife sharpening ability wasn't the reason I had the friends I did.

To be honest, Dad came by his talent honestly. If his family had a crest, it'd be a cedar stick and a Case knife. All the brothers (well, almost all) have fine knife collections and one brother even makes knives now. Every male above the age of five whittles and Great-Uncle Charles carves. [There is a BIG difference. Never ask someone who is whittling what he's making. You'll just show your ignorance.] The ground at our family get togethers looks like a carnival midway covered in sawdust. It's just what we do.

At least it's what THEY do. Though I enjoy the occasional whittle and I have a nice collection of knives (my German Eye copperhead is my pride and joy), I've always depended on Dad to keep them in good shape. Though Dad is an ace, he never saw fit to pass that skill along. Hence, I've remained dependent on him. I don't think it was a conspiracy on his part; it's just how things worked out. Tuesday, though, I found myself in Hartselle, AL and I happened to stop at J and P Earnest Cutlery -- one of the grandest knife stores I've ever been in. Though I had no need, or even real desire, for a new knife, it just seemed like an opportunity for a blast from the past. Sure enough, I roamed the counters for half an hour or more just looking at beautiful knives. Finally, I spotted the whetrocks.

I don't know why, but I decided that I NEEDED a rock. I haven't been "home" in a while and Dad has had some health problems this year, so it just seemed like I needed to get myself a whetrock. I can't explain it, but I knew I had to buy one. Karma, kismet, fate, whatever you want to call it, I left with a 4-inch "soft Arkansas" stone in a cedar holding box. I had no idea what I was going to do with it, but I took it home and decided to try my hand at honing. Much to my surprise, I was able to get a "shaving edge" on my Case muskrat in just a few minutes. Mind you, I'm not saying I'm at the Pa Caffeine level, but it just made me think of Dad and what a genuinely good guy he is. In fact, I think I may now go visit the folks this weekend. It's funny how little things remind us of the bigger things, no?

Anyway, just wanted to talk about my dad for a while. Oh, those of you who know Dad, please do not tell him about this. First off, the Caffeine family does not go in for emotion and mush. Secondly, I DO NOT want the Caffeine folks to know about my blog as I'm sure I'll need to vent about how my family is driving me crazy at some point. So please help me keep this my safe haven.

P.S. Thailand Jeff, this may not be a "normal" story, but I think it meets your request to abstain, for a day, from the "I'm a lunatic" stories.