I’m a Leatherman junkie. I freely admit it. Since high school (maybe even before–I can’t remember), I’ve always had a Leatherman attached to my belt. Why? Well, why not? You never know when one of these little puppies is gonna come in handy. Like the time I was in Germany and wanted to use the phone, but I couldn’t because the phone card slot already had a card stuck in it. I whipped out my Leatherman, got out the pliers, and took out the card. Problem solved. That sort of thing happens all the time to me–not being stuck in a German phone booth, but rather seeing a need for a Leatherman and being able to fill that need right away. Certainly at my current job, it comes in handy. Yes, even as a Librarian. Anyway–I use it all the time.
My first Leatherman was the Super Tool.This beast accompanied me through high school, then went off to Germany with me. It introduced me to the wonders of a Leatherman. Pliers, knives, files, screwdrivers, wire cutters–it had everything I could think of, and for years, we were happy. But then, something changed. New Leathermen started coming out. Leathermen that had scissors. Leathermen with blades you could open up without having to unfold everything else. Leathermen with easily locking and unlocking blades. I admit, I added a second tool to the fold: the Wave. I didn’t completely abandon the Super Tool (I still use it sometimes, since its sheath is more discreet), but the Wave became my go to tool. I built lawn furniture, dismantled closets, fixed sound systems and more. Its knives were so easy to get to, and those scissors–while not ergonomically ideal–were great for snipping loose ends. I didn’t think I’d ever give up my Wave.
Until tragedy struck, in the form of the security line at the Philadelphia International Airport.
As you all know, I hate flying. (Can I trademark that phrase yet?) When I know a flight’s coming up, my insides clench, my stomach roils, and a sheen of sweat covers my palms for days in advance. I stop thinking rationally. I’m no fun to be around. This last vacation down to Florida was no different. In my flight-induced panic, I made an error I’d only made once before in my life: I left my Leatherman on my belt. In fact, I didn’t even realize my mistake until I’d gone through the metal detector the third time, and it kept beeping. Do I have a metal plate in my head? I wondered. Did the government install a tracking beacon? And then it hit me: I still had my Wave. Once, when I flew from Cairo down to Luxor in Egypt, I’d made this same mistake. They apprehended my deadly Wave, and I thought it was gone forever. But on my return to Cairo, I was reunited with it in joyful bliss.
Philadelphia doesn’t roll like that.
My Wave was taken from me, and I shall never see it again. Let us all have a moment of silence for my Leatherman Wave, no doubt gracing the belt of some greedy little aviation security worker these days.
Time moves on, as time is known to do. I still had my Super Tool, but it wasn’t enough for me. I needed that easily accessible blade. And those scissors! So what did I do? I got a third Leatherman: the Surge. And we loves it, yes we do. My precious. The scissors are better. It has interchangeable screwdriver bits. Replaceable saw blades. Bigger knives! A ruler on the edge! Easy to lock and unlock everythings! A compass in the stock, and this thing which tells time! I’ve already taken a door out of a frame, worked on a sick computer, sliced open numerous bags, and more.
I look forward to many happy years. Thank you, Leatherman!