I bought it when I was thirteen from a street corner store in Cayambe, Ecuador. It had fake plastic wood grain instead of the traditional red, and somewhere between 12 and 6,000 blades. I was convinced it could do anything, and I ran all over the Andes opening bottles, cans, cutting things with the little scissors, and sawing the occasional pieces of wood.
Ever since then a Swiss Army knife has been my gift of choice to anyone coming of age. I got one for Jeffrey, but he was less than thrilled with it, and I never saw him carry it (probably because it didn't have the make-a-hole attachment.)