4 May 2010
Make a list of 10 of your favorite things. Write a story about one of them
Antique cars
A well balanced, fountain pen with a gold nib that flows ink on the paper
Walks through the French country side
A purring cat
Music in my life
My new falcon stove
A bite of food that fills your mouth with wonderful flavor
Conversation with an intelligent adult
Life in France
A book that sucks me in through to the end
Being “retired” from work so I can pursue my interests
The Collectioner
One of the disappointments in using a keyboard to do your writing, is that you give up the tactile feel of a gold nib flowing ink out onto a page of high count linen paper. There are just some things in life that require the time and energy to use them. I know, it is my choice to be tickling away at my writing by using the keyboard as the interface to the words appearing. I like the speed and efficiency and the ability to edit and store all in one place. What is lost is the sensual feel of enjoying a wonderful writing instrument, a classic fountain pen. And once you have one, then it seems reasonable to have two and then… you get the picture. You are now a collector of fountain pens and antique writing paraphernalia. It becomes a passion, and an affectation.
I spent much of my professional life sitting in meetings. Long, interminable, power point filled, mind numbing sessions where we were told to enjoy our work and being together as a team. Thank you. My biggest problem was the amount of time I spent conferencing with these people who drove me nuts and never got work done because were always in meetings. Anyway, you begin to develop coping mechanisms and personal quirks. I suppose as quirks go, mine being a pursuer of pens, is really not all that bad. But you begin to regularize your meeting behaviors around your affectations.
Before heading from my office, I would decide which of my pens to bring along. There had to be at least two, one each for black and blue ink. And I would also have to select a matching mechanical pencil and a ball point pen which meant now, I had to have a small leather pen case in which to carry them. Next was deciding the paper or note cards to bring along. And then, inevitably, I would have to dash out the door late because I had spent so much time organizing my accouterments that I would forget to look at the agenda.
Upon arrival there is the routine of finding your place at table. Who is there and who is expected? Are there any of the big bosses coming? And then, depending on the open seats, you select your spot and begin unloading your kit.
The pen holder comes out of your calf leather brief case and is placed in front of you. Next comes the note book and cards for various ways of keeping information from one time to the next. Depending on the casualness of the meeting, and the length of time expected, off will come the suit or sport coat, color coordinated silk kerchief perfectly flowing from the front pocket, and draped onto the back of the chair. And you sit and chat.
Just as the meeting is formally opened, You reach over to the pen case to make your selection for the initial noting of date and time on the page of paper in your notebook. Oh yes, the notebook must be of wonderful rich leather, black preferably. It opens with a flourish in front of you, the agenda slid into the pocket on the left side, lined pad on the right. No one knows you are reading the agenda for the first time as the introductions are made.
Now the time comes to decide on a pen. You slide back the leather top to the case and begin pulling them out part way, contemplating which one is perfect for that day. People now of course are looking at you instead of listening to each person, for the 2000th time, introduce themselves, just like we did in the meeting yesterday and the ones before. Finally a selection is made, pulled from its sheath and placed on the note paper before you while you close the cover and put the pen case back down front center .
With a casual twist, the cap is off the pen and you briefly note the date in the upper right hand corner of your page. Recap the pen and set it down. Now you are ready for the boredom to begin. Through the rest of the meeting, the pen becomes your fidget piece. You twirl it on the table top, move it around. Use it when you speak as a baton with which you orchestrate a point. And, after a while of that, it is time to change pens. And you start the routine all over again.
Or, you have two pens out so that you can use different inks to highlight some part of the presentation that only you seems to have found as a nugget of information to be particularly visible. Of course, you will likely never reread the notes again unless you are formally charged with passing out the minutes/results of the meeting. But writing and making notes makes you seem to be working and team playing.
Once begun, it is hard to stop at just one affectation. My pen affliction began to carry over to timepieces. Not just any watch but a big, round, antique pocket watch with a chain. Now I added that to my meeting behavior. After the pen case was opened and the date noted on the paper, out would come my grandfather’s watch, or another of my collection that I was carrying that day. It would be set directly in front of me, the chain wound around it on the table top. It made time pass directly in front of me. I could see without obviously looking, how long the droning on went. I never knew some people could speak for so long without saying anything. So my watch was there to track time and became another of my little habits.
My watch collection began when I left my real grandfather’s watch on the table of a meeting room one day. This becomes another problem of collections, you have to keep track of them. And when you take all those little things out of your brief case, you have to make sure they go back. At the end of this particular meeting I was asked a question and was talking and putting things away and walked away without thinking. Ten minutes later I realized the watch was missing and ran back to the room and it was gone. So I had to replace it to keep up my affectation and the next thing you know, I have another collection.
I have many other affectations that have become my friends and visual connections to my persona such as the aforementioned silk pocket handkerchiefs. Antique cars became another passion and included a 62 Rolls Royce Silver Cloud used to drive to the supermarket or restaurant. My succession of shaded silver Persian cats developed a fan base in my organization due to the cat portraits on my desk in place of children’s pictures. And my open loyalty to, and strong support for, all things French was as well known as my love of cooking and food. You could say I became known for my eccentricities, I suppose.
Finally one day, one of the younger staffers in our organization, who I mentored, came into my office seemingly in a panic. I urged him to sit and calm himself and asked what was wrong. After several deep breaths, he haltingly told how he had been trying to develop something personal that he could be known for. Then he cried. “I have been thinking all weekend, trying to come up with an affectation of just my own, and couldn’t. You already have them all!”