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  • June 30, 2009

    Petzal: Which Blade Switchblade? *

    I’m fond of dumb crap because there’s so much of it spewing forth every day, and particularly of old dumb crap because it has a nice comfortable feel to it. This past week I encountered some authentic mid-1950s vintage ordure, courtesy of U.S. Customs and Border Protection.

    Back in the 50s, juvenile delinquency was seen as a major threat to the republic, so Senator Estes Kefauver of Tennessee decided to outlaw the principal weapon of the JD, the switchblade knife. (Senator Kefauver was also hell on comic books; that gives you some idea.) Accordingly in1958, we were treated to Public Law 85-623, which made illegal both gravity knives and spring-operated knives. As with most laws of this type, it had no effect on anything and was ignored by nearly everyone.

    Now, as illegal people by the thousand and contraband weed by the ton pour across our borders, CPB has decided to save us by decreeing that any knife which can be opened with one hand qualifies as a switchblade. Not to worry, says CPB, this rule will apply only to imported cutlery, conveniently ignoring the fact that all major knifemakers rely on imports from Italy, German, Japan, China, and Formosa.

    The real danger in this s**t is that Customs agents, taking their cue from TSA agents, are going to decide for themselves what is and isn’t illegal, and you may find that the Buck Model 110 at your belt is a switchblade because somewhere, someone has figured out how to get it open with one hand.

    My advice is to either start drinking heavily, because there is no hope left, or write to Homeland Security Secretary Janet Napolitano, inquiring if her agency lacks for some useful way to occupy its time. Then, go out and buy several one-hand-openers.
     
    *In the manner of the “Where wolf?, There wolf.” Scene from “Young Frankenstein.”

  • May 18, 2009

    A Man's Grill

  • May 5, 2009

    Petzal: At Long Last

    The movies have the Oscars; magazines have the ASME Awards. Every year, a panel of screeners and judges from the American Society of Magazine Editors meets at Columbia University to pick the best work in 20 different categories—Best Design, photography, essay, reporting, etc. The awards are called Ellies, because the statuettes look a little like elephants, or spiders, depending on your world view. This year there were 1,707 entries in 20 categories from 350 magazines.

    Many magazines are never nominated. A comparative few are nominated nearly every year. Most will get a nomination two or three times in their life span. The top award—General Excellence—is the equivalent of Best Picture. It is the Big One. Over the past 20 years, Field & Stream has been nominated 14 times for various awards, and never won. This year, we were up for General Excellence in the 1- to 2-million circulation bracket. The other finalists were Bon Appetit, The New Yorker, Popular Science, and Vogue—all perennial winners.

    But this year, by God, it was our turn. Field & Stream finally took an Ellie, and it was the top Ellie. The citation reads:

    “Field & Stream, Anthony Licata, editor, for May, June, December/January issues. From tips on becoming a total outdoorsman to profiles of amputees reentering the world of hunting, Field & Stream respects its readers enough to challenge them. Like all great magazines, this one is much more ambitious than it needs to be and delivers the goods, but also provokes with content that is consistently savvy, witty and large-hearted. Nominated 14 times, this is Field & Stream’s first Ellie.”

  • January 12, 2009

    Bourjaily: Skeet Fishing

    This video proves that if you practice a whole lot and focus on target, you can break clays with anything, even a fishing rod and a weight. It’s pretty amazing.

    The clip also brings up a number of questions, like the best sinker size for skeet, and what pound test you need for 27 yard handicap, not to mention rod length, rod fit and fiber-optic tips.

    As long as the Master Casters stick to clay birds, this is the coolest thing ever. As soon as some idiot starts snagging birds on the wing, reeling them in, kissing them on the beak and letting them go, I am going to have a serious problem.