One of the greatest things about studying history is that there is literally a history for everything; if someone has been there, done that or invented whatever you’re interested in, it has a history. Sometimes the discovered past of individuals, events, inventions or movements can find a wide interest base in popular consciousness (e.g. the Titanic, the World Wars, 1960s counterculture, etc). Other times, a few hundred or a few thousand enthusiasts might come together to discuss their love of a particular subject (e.g. Civil War re-enactors, local historical societies or members of the steampunk sub-culture). And then there are those times when it seems like you are the only person in the whole world that appreciates the history of a certain thing...Case in point:
A few years ago, my father introduced me to the Fisher Space Pen (pictured at the top right of this blog post). In his opinion, this is the greatest pen that has ever been invented. I’m serious. The way that my father loves this pen is akin to the way most parents love their children (except, come to think of it, I can hardly remember the last time my father praised me quite so effusively in front of complete strangers). Anyway, he carries his with him everywhere, never missing an opportunity to loan it to someone. Unfortunately, this also means that he never misses an opportunity to relate the pen’s virtues and its history to the user. Over the years this has been a constant source of embarrassment for me as he extolled the virtues of his Space Pen to everyone from waitresses to my best friend to our optometrist and the entire population of his waiting room.* His spiel usually goes a little something like this:
“Oh, you say your pen isn’t working? That’s a... shame.”
(At this point he gets a gleeful twinkle in his eye as he reaches inside his jacket pocket for the infamous pen.)
“Here, use mine. Neat, isn’t it? It’s a Space Pen. Seriously, it’s the only kind of pen that American astronauts have used in space since the Apollo missions. It’s amazing! It writes upside down, underwater and in -40°C temperatures!”
Now, my father (as a salesman) doesn’t spend inordinate amounts of time hanging upside down in his daily life. Nor does he scuba dive. Nor does he often travel to the Arctic Circle. Why he would need a pen that performs under all of these adverse conditions is simply beyond me.
I just didn’t get the appeal.
Of course, this all changed the day that my father gifted me with my very own Fisher Space Pen. On that day I held this small grey box with a picture of a space shuttle on it in my hands, read the accompanying brochure on the history of the pen, perused the historical facts on their website and was hooked. Now, every time someone asks to borrow a pen, I can’t just grab one from my pencil case at random and hand it over. No, now I deliberately choose to loan them my Space Pen so I have an excuse to launch into my very own spiel about the history of the pen. I’ve tried to refrain, but I just can’t help myself. Spreading my knowledge of the history of this tiny object has become a compulsion with me.
The moral of this post: Unless you’re really interested in the manufacturing history of a ballpoint pen, you might want to ask someone other than a member of the Caughell family the next time you need to borrow a pen.
* This statement may have been exaggerated for dramatic effect.
Note: The Fisher Space Pen is so impressive that there's even an entire episode of Seinfeld ("The Pen") devoted to its awesomeness.
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