Being Vintage

I've discovered that I'm now vintage. When I was a girl, I would go to girl guide camp and we always cut the wood with a two-person cross cut saw. This was hilarious because if you push the saw, it bows and gets stuck and resulted in lots of yelling and laughing. Eventually, we would get the hang of taking turns pulling and we would start showing off our sawing prowess. This year I decided that my unit needed to buy some wood cutting equipment for my girls. Off to Canadian Tire I go to buy a saw. I looked all over and finally asked for help from this man that must be on his way to retirement. "Oh, we haven't sold those in years." I asked around at Church and the only people that had any idea what I was talking about were part of the High Priest group. I looked on e-bay and almost all the two-person cross cut saws were labeled as vintage. And if cross cut saws are vintage, what to the boucherons (lumberjacks, it's funny that I only picture boucherons as french canadians) do now? Do they just sit around eating giant stacks of pancakes with maple syrup and singing "Un canadien errant"? My poor girls will now just have to cut wood with a buck saw and miss all the fun of cutting wood with a partner.