Thursday, July 8, 2010

An axe for my youth

My Dad has a strange and unusual hobby. Not many have considered taking up such a pursuit, but most people who find out about it thinks that it is cool. It has been well discussed by me and my friends that I have no authority on what is cool and what is not, but that is the response people give when I tell them my Dad is a blacksmith.

Such an endeavour has perks. For my 17th birthday Dad made me a rather large medieval/fantasy hand axe. It was huge; the head weighed over two kilos with only a 40 cm handle. The plan was that if Dad made it large enough I could not use it when stuffing around with my friends. Parents, it seems, do not like to go home via the emergency ward when they pick their kids up.

It was a good plan and an awesome present. Leading up to the big day was not that awesome however.

A couple of days before my birthday I was out driving with my mates and Dad brought the nearly completed axe into the house to show my Mum. All that he had left to do was to give it a bit of a clean, polish, and finish the handle.

Mum was praising my Dad’s craftsmanship, or so he tells me, when a police car pulled up at the front. Dad saw it first, recalled I was out driving, and subsequently panicked when the cop started walking up our driveway. With axe in hand, my Dad went barrelling out of the front door and yelled, “What are you doing here!?”

If you know my Dad, then you are lucky, but you also know he is a sweet, harmless and humble man. But he is short, stocky and particularly wide at the shoulders from swinging hammers. (He is bear like, but more Yogi Bear like.)

The police did not know him though. They just saw a wide stocky man, holding an axe, and asking what they were doing rather forcefully. So I can understand their concern. The cop closest to the door went white and started backing up slowly, while the cop behind him was reaching for his gun.

Luckily, Mum was not that far behind Dad and had followed him out, she saw what was happening, promptly removed the axe from his hand, and took it inside. Dad then realised what he had done.

What would Conan do in a situation like this? Well for one, he would not be bringing an axe to a gun fight...

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