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| CANADA'S SOURCE FOR WHITTLING HUMOUR, PARODY, AND SATIRE
KENTUCKY-- Calvin Strong's career as a professional whittler is starting to shape up nicely. After spending a year on the street whittling for whetstones and spare change, Calvin made up his mind to complete his education so that he could pursue his dream of professional whittling, and get paid to carve chunks of wood with a pocketknife.
"Before I began the apprenticeship program at Carver University, I was barely scraping by," admitted Calvin. "I had some raw whittling talent, but I didn't know how to apply it. At the time, the only work I could find was peeling potatoes. It wasn't enough, so I took a stab at school." It was a good decision, as Calvin finished the two-year whittling certificate program, and almost immediately began to get offers. Now he has the luxury of choosing his commissioned work, and he can relax and focus on whittling what he wants to whittle. "Each piece is different," described Calvin. "When I take a hunk of hickory, I never know what I'll end up whittling it down to. Maybe it'll be a tiny flute, or a wooden spoon, or perhaps just a pair of drumsticks. One thing for sure is that the finished piece will be a lot smaller than what I started out with." Calvin's story is an inspiration for those wishing to pursue a career in whittling, gouging, or chiseling.
"He used to spend hours on that porch, whittling away. He once carved a clothes peg out of a big chunk of firewood. I've always kept that in my mind for inspiration, whenever I needed a little encouragement." The road to self-sufficiency hasn't been easy. "I just kept chipping away at it," said Calvin. "I would take odd jobs scaling fish just to stay sharp. I didn't want to lose my edge." I tried my hand at ice-sculpting, but the conditions were too frickin' cold. Now I like to sit on the front porch to do my work. But if I took a block of ice outside, it would melt before it was made into anything recognizable." Calvin's
dream job would be to carve wooden pan flutes or those hanging cages with
the wooden balls inside.
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| This fictional story about satire is intended for adults. | The World Leader in Canadian humour, humor, parody, and satire. | |
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"I
got my first pocketknife when I was eight," recalled Calvin. "My
grand-dad gave it to me, or it fell out of his pocket. I can't quite remember
which. He did seem awful mad about losing something that day."
