When I was twelve years old my Dad gave me my first knife.  If I close my eyes I can still picture that day and remember thinking how cool it was to have my own knife.  It wasn't much to brag about but you couldn't tell me that at the time.  I spent many hours whittling on sticks in the woods with that knife.  It was a small black folding knife that to this day I have tucked away in a special place.