I had — and still have — an ancient pair of wirecutters.  This thing goes through piano wire as if it were butter.  In an act of world-class blasphemy,  I sometimes use it to clip my toenails.  It’s a Starrett.

We used to go to Kaufman Industrial Supply in East Cambridge.  You went there when you needed something really good like a 24 gauge wood screw — that’d be the one that holds the cast-iron plate in the piano — or a Soss hinge.  And so off to Kaufman’s I went when I decided that ancient tool deserved a new set of jaws.

Walked in, dropped it on the counter.  “It needs new jaws.”  He picked it up, turned it over doubtfully.  Hesitantly, “I don’t know…” This simply wasn’t acceptable.  “It’s a Starrett.”   I spat it out.  “Oh,” very quietly.  A minute later, he re-emerged, shiny new parts in hand.