(Not) The Miracle Worker
Posted by Dirck on 4 March, 2015
There’s tent’s a-goin’ up on the edge of town, and the sound of speaking in tongues can be heard, and that can only mean one thing!
Well, yes, there will be a federal election later this year. But that’s aside my current point.
This weekend I will be giving the second of what I hope to be an effectively infinite series of pen tuning clinics at Paper Umbrella on Saturday upcoming. Minor pen maladies cured while you wait, and if there’s something major and non-fixable on-scene I will be offering discounts for those that brought the pen in to be looked at if I take it back to my workshop
at The North Pole on Mount Crumpet in the quite suburban basement I call my own. It’s also, he said suggestively, a pretty good time to buy a pen at Paper Umbrella, because there’s someone right there to make sure it’s not all scratchy and disaligned, as is sadly the case too often with modern “quality control” practices.
This is not to say that I can fix everything. For example, and at the risk of appearing crass in making a reference of this flavour so close to Leonard Nimoy’s passing…
That was brought to me last month. I’ve have a VERY HARD look at it, and that’s about where the matter lies, because re-uniting the two elements of the front end wouldn’t address the problems of the trap-door mechanism that lies between them and I’m not content such a re-uniting could be successful anyway. I’m (still) waiting for the Canadian distributors of Pilot/Namiki to get back to me on the subject of unoccupied hulls for Vanishing Point/Capless pens, as the writing unit in this one is undamaged, fits in modern barrels, and was extremely pleasing to the owner when it was useable. Hope remains in the air, or perhaps in the physicist’s box with the cat.
I was mentioning last week the paucity of novelty in my repair roster lately, and I’d had some hopes for this when it was described to me over the phone– an example of the previous form of the VP? Ooh, I’d like to have one of those in my hands and thus be able to expand the page on my site. This one is not as one might call a poster-child for the type, though. There is at least a little utility to this encounter on a personal level, as it has done an excellent job of reducing the intensity of my pining for one of this sort to call my own; less visible in the picture is the big crack in the button-holding end of the body, an apparently popular failure in this type.
Of course, the damping of that longing is like a single voice dropping out of a choir. So… many… pens in the world!