In Search Of The Perfect Pen
I don't recall the origin of my quest for the perfect writing instrument. In high school, the zipper pouch inside my three-ring notebook bulged with candidates: No. 2 cedar pencil, chunky mechanical pencil and ballpoints exuding gooey ink.
A Wearever cartridge fountain pen eventually replaced the leaky ballpoints, but I never embraced the fatness of its stroke. Same with felt-tip pens.
The zipper pouch didn't survive college. Like many of my nerdy peers, I opted for the more efficient and portable plastic pocket protector stuffed with essentials. That brought changes.
The venerable No. 2 and fat mechanical pencils were replaced by a classy Pentel marvel that emitted a bit of 0.5 mm lead with each gentle click. But the Pentel's token eraser begged for help, a separate six-inch eraser with a pocket clip. Some of us erased a lot.
A precision Koh-I-Nor Rapidograph drawing pen soon supplanted the Wearever. The Rapidograph flowed smooth, razor-thin lines of India ink that didn't ooze under triangles and T-squares. Plus, it performed tolerably at writing.
But add a six-inch scale to this menagerie, and the pocket protector bulged. But engineers preferred function over form.
Once out of college, both the pocket protector and its undeserved stigma were set aside. But my pocket still sagged under the weight of the Pentel, eraser, scale and ballpoint. Requiring too much maintenance, the Rapidograph had fallen out of favor.
In time, the encroachment of the personal computer precipitated more changes in shirt pocket hardware. Since most of what I had formerly written by hand could be efficiently typed directly into an electronic document, my need to write erasable text virtually disappeared. Goodbye mechanical pencil and eraser.
Only two extra-fine ballpoint pens remained: black for ordinary writing and red for editing and correcting documents.
But they had to meet other requirements since I also used them for making notations in my Bible. Ink that soaked through the thin paper wouldn't do. And the ink also had to be quick drying and waterproof to avoid smears. No compromises there.
The Sanford Uni-Ball Roller met my demands admirably, so I began buying them myself in boxes of 12. But without consulting me, Sanford apparently changed the formula of the ink so that it penetrates even my journal's thick pages. Nine new black pens still languish in the last box I bought, rendered useless for the purpose intended.
This upset has launched a new search for the perfect pen.
I've finally found it--a Pilot G-2 extra-fine--but there's a tiny problem, a deviation from my specifications. Wal-mart carries but one color: blue. What about my decades-old penchant for black and red?
So I've begrudgingly compromised--and have discovered an unexpected benefit. Blue works both for regular writing and editing. My shirt pocket now sports but a single pen, manageable and efficient.
Success may sometimes be no more than redefining the problem to fit the solution you already have.
Copyright 2004 James McAlister
Comments
Post a Comment