Schara's story about his little red knife

Ron Schara

This is a story about a little red knife.

Its real name is Victorinox Classic, although most folks would just say it's in the family of famed Swiss Army knives. My little red knife is about 2¼ inches long with four specialized blades that are designed for… well, everything.

I'm guessing you have one or did have one. That's because the little red knife may be the most popular pocket knife in history. It has my vote.

Sadly, I can't remember when I first started to carry the little red knife. It's been years and, to this day, I'm seldom without one in a front pocket. It's too handy. Consider the blades: there's a pen blade, good for opening mail, cutting tough plastic or cutting whatever. A spring scissors is great for trimming fingernails, cutting fishing line, whatever. Another blade has a fingernail file on one side with a flat blade screwdriver head. The fourth blade features a bottle opener thing-a-ma-jig with a small phillips screwdriver head on the end.

Amazing right? Oh, I forgot to mention the little knife also holds a small tweezer for grabbing slivers plus a plastic toothpick which is invaluable after a bowl of popcorn.

There's only one problem with my little red knife: the threat of losing or misplacing the dang thing. Can't tell you how many times the handy tool has slipped out of my pocket while I'm slumped in a lounge chair in front of the television. Later, I get out of the chair and – hours later – realize the knife is missing. Retracing my steps, I return to the chair, flip it over, and – aaaah – there's my little red knife and life is good again.

A more serious threat to losing the knife occurred one day at airport security. Like a dummy, I forgot it was in my pocket. Of course, the buzzer went off. The security officer asked my to empty my pocket and there it was. Yikes. "You can't take that on the plane," said the officer. Oh, no!!! "Can I go back," I asked. The officer nodded yes.

Fortunately, I was early for my flight and discovered there's a post office in the airport where for $5 I could mail my little red knife to myself. I did. Made my flight. And when I returned home, we were reunited again.

Handy for everything from cutting fishing line to removing slivers, Schara's little red pocketknife has inspired intense devotion – and relief when a Game Fair vendor returned it. Photo by Ron Schara

Oh my, the trials and tribulations of loving a little red knife. Over the years I've had many moments of "damn, where is it?" and many moments of sheer joy when the little red knife once again was in my pocket.

However, the latest tale of missing the little red knife is almost surreal or bizarre. It goes like this: I was at Game Fair, announcing, walking around amid huge crowds of folks and dogs. On the first weekend, a Sunday, I stopped at a popular vendor who sells all kinds of nuts. I ordered a small bag of pecans, reached in my pocket for a money clip and paid the lady behind the counter.

The pecans were delicious… until I got home later and realized my little red knife was missing. Was it under the chair? Was it behind my car seat? No and no. It was gone.

Five days later, I'm back for the second weekend at Game Fair in the information booth. I looked around where I sit. No knife.

By chance, I again walked by the lady who sells those tasty nuts of all kinds. I stopped and asked a stupid question: "By chance," I asked, "Did you happen to see a little red knife laying outside the counter?"

The lady smiled, reached under the counter and said, "Is this it?"

I didn't kiss the nut lady…

But I wanted to.