I might be a wee bit amused by the suggestion to head to Jun Won for food.
Might be going really OT here, but I’ve seen enough videos of the ax flying right back into the throwers’ face to know that I don’t want this.
Darwin Awards. Winners only. No runners up please.
That’s like superhero training right there…
Oh, I actually had some similar happen w/ a dart once. Way less dangerous than similar occurrence w/ an axe, of course…
Check Simone Biles latest axe throw. She’s training for the up coming Olympics. It was just for fun .
I grew up using axes for more prosaic, dare I say practical, uses. You know, breaking down fallen trees, hewing rounds into firewood, splintering some of that firewood into kindling. (Chainsaws scare me and hatchets tended to get mislaid around our place.) And yes, I have witnessed more than one axe-involved injury.
I just don’t get the appeal of this.
I must know how this would happen. I’m not judging, just fascinated.
blink Are you telling me that the definitely semi-weekly (frequently weekly, often daily) “Where in the Bleepin’-Bleep are all the Bleepin’-Bleepidy Hatchets?!” Scavenger Hunt was not a much-celebrated and thus greatly-reminisced-upon-usually-while-recreating-the-ceremony-at-family-gatherings event in the @WireMonkey household? I am tremendously sad for this void in your childhood.
I’m thinking it was an issue of both form AND function:
Hatchets are used outside, in the elements, around wood. The blades, but for the cutting edge, tend to quickly tarnish (we weren’t really big on actually cleaning them), and the wooden handles absorbed body oils, sweat (and possibly blood and tears, come to think of it), and all kinds of organic matter (if we remembered to/could find them to wear) from leather work gloves.
In other words, hatchets tended to visually blend in with their surroundings (in the woods or a field where we were hauling out downed trees, by a pile of unstacked logs that had been tossed out of the bed of a pick-up truck, near an in-progress and almost semi-legit organized wood stack that needed to be broken down, etc.).
(Axes had the same issues, but they had long enough handles to usually catch the eye, at least if you squinted long enough at different areas.)
At the same time, hatchets (unlike axes, and somewhat like some hammers [another tool that regularly was misplaced]) are both small and - unless you had some kind of belt to hook them into - require some level of attentiveness to carry: if you had an armful of broken down kindling you didn’t want to plop the hatchet on top of that, as it was likely to fall off, so you carefully set it/leaned it/cached it/tossed it … somewhere. And then promptly forgot where that somewhere was. (Also important to note this happened on almost every camping/backpacking trip I can recall, with varying levels of desperation during the scavenger hunt.)
In a family of earnest-yet-absentminded people (especially me), many of whom had reason for regular hatchet usage, this meant that - no matter how many hatchets we actually owned at any given time - it was actually rare that any were readily findable when needed.
Oh, the lost hatchet stories I could regale you with!
Beer and axe throwing? What could possibly go wrong?
I bow (I’m not coordinated enough to curtsy [autocorrect decided I intended “curry” for some reason]) to that reference. I’ve not been to his establishment, though I have salivated over descriptions and photos of the veggie dishes.
… and I am certainly not coordinated enough to curry!