POWER OF THE PEN

I heard a lovely piece on NPR this morning. Yes, I’m an NPR junkie who listens every minute of my commute, unless I’m catching Pit Bull on one of the Spanish radio stations.  

The story featured a pen store in Milwaukee, one of the few remaining in the country.  I loved hearing about the brands and how some people still appreciate the beauty of a fine writing tool. The owner talked about how we pay outrageous sums for clothes, shoes, belts, purses and jewelry but don’t think twice about pulling out a BIC for writing a grocery list, signing a legal document. We forget to accessorize when it comes to pens. He’s right.

The story brought back the memory of a Brazilian boyfriend from a lifetime ago. When we were dating, I’d been toying around with writing but hadn’t done much. He got me a pen as a farewell gift because I had told him of my big dream of being a best selling author. No BIC from this guy, rather an exquisite Mont Blanc pen, black and gold and beautiful. I almost cried. Here was a guy who totally got me.

When I took the pen out of its black lacquer case and held it in my writing hand, I felt like I could be the next Jane Austen, Dorothy Parker, or Erma Bombeck. This pen tapped into my creative energy. This pen made me imagine myself at a book signing, using it to put my name in the best seller I had written. This pen made me wish the Brazilian boyfriend would stay.

He didn’t, of course. But I still have that pen and I still feel the power whenever I use it. And it still reminds me to keep my big dream alive. Just like that pen guy in Milwaukee.