Sharp… or not

Intelligent Life

This section has been made in recognition of one man.  My dad.

Dad is just one of those people.  The ones who cause the powers that be to decide to make a sign that says Do Not Stop on Tracks.  The ones who make their friends groan during conversations.  The ones who are so incredibly, inhumanly stupid that I start to lose faith in humanity.

Just one example – ABC Daytime’s General Hospital has a character on the show named Chloe.   Now, I don’t have a problem with that name, I tend to say it without much difficulty.  But dad can’t seem to wrap his mind around it.  He insists on calling her “Cooey” or “You-know-that-girl.”  Maybe he has a mental block, I don’t know, but it’s not that hard a name.

A better example – for my brother’s twenty-second birthday, Dad gave him a knife from Franklin Mint.  Chris sort of collects knives, and it was a fairly decent gift.  The handle is painted in gold, and a silver eagle’s head sits at its end.  The silver feathers wrap completely around the handle except for one sliver where the blade sits when its closed.

Now, I should tell you that one of Dad’s “things” is that he’s way overprotective.  Not overprotective like normal overprotective, not overprotective like please don’t jump off the canal locks overprotective, I mean way overprotective.  Like warn you to watch out for cars every time you go through a parking lot overprotective.  Like having a heart attack every time you stay home alone even though you’re nineteen overprotective.  Like asking when you stay home alone whether or not you remembered to eat dinner overprotective.  Like finding out you’re going away to college and asking if he can get you to take your mom with you overprotective.  I’m convinced it’s a psychological disorder.

Anyway, judging from past experience, I shouldn’t have been surprised when he did what he did next.  But that’s the thing with these people; they never fail to amaze you.  They never fail to stop themselves and show you that, yes, it is possible to be dumber than they already are.

I’m sure you’re dying to know exactly what he did, so here it is.  He took the knife and opened the blade, a good size blade, maybe five or six inches.  Now I was expecting a comment or a warning about knife-play, and that did come later on, but that’s not what I’m talking about now.  If you’re wondering, though, I believe he told Chris not to kill any of his cats.

No, what I’m talking about now is much, much worse.  He opened the blade, turned the knife over in his hand, examined it up and down, and found something disturbing.  The feathers, the silver feathers, meet the handle in sort of half-points.  Because feathers are pointed at the end.  But where the feathers meet the part of the knife where the blade slides in, there’s no handle.  So the points are just sitting there, waiting for someone else who belongs on this page to inflict a centimeter-deep mortal wound on themselves.  So, because these people spot danger to their own, Dad took his finger, ran it over the feathers, turned to Chris and said…

“Better be careful, it’s kind of sharp right there.”

I don’t think I need to say anymore about my dad.

So in his honor, I give you this section.  This is the place to embarrass your friends, to humiliate your family, and to make all those you love think you’re a jerk.  Whenever you see someone do something dumb, come up here and tell me about it.  If it rates right up there with the dumbest of the dumb, the entire world will get to see it and laugh.

Do Not Stop on Tracks is the section to see just how stupid people can be.  This is the section to see just how stupid people actually are.

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