OMG, can no one make a decent pen? It blows me away how pathetic pens are these days.
Not to be Mr. Nostalgic or anything, but back when I was growing up, the Bic pen lasted forever. In 4th grade, I’d watch the ink go down through the clear hard-plastic tubing, wondering when it would ever reach the end and actually stop writing so I could complain to the teacher about not being able to finish the assignment.
As an added bonus, you could pull the inner tube that held the ink out of the receptacle and use it like a straw to shoot spitballs at your buddy across the classroom. If you were clandestine enough, you got away with this and would slide the pointed writing end back into the tube just after you hit Paul in the forehead with a wet wadded piece of notebook paper.
If you were unfortunate, you could spend the rest of the class standing in the corner with the Dunce hat on, crying and complaining that Paul started it, so it was his fault. Now, pens not only can’t serve as a spitball device, but they fall apart or stop writing effectively within a couple months and have to be tossed in the ash heap.
This could be a plot by pen manufacturers to keep us buying extra product. Or perhaps there is an online conspiracy attempting to stop us from writing by hand completely, so we become fully dependent on sending electronic messages.
Both subterfuge attempts force us to throw pens away, grow angry and curse. As the ink evaporates in the delivery device, you scribble and scribble and nothing comes up. When this happens to me, as it does frequently (more on this in a minute), I rant. In fact this is at least the second time this column has dwelled on the declining quality of pens in the world.
The most recent incident that drove me batty (and to put pen to paper to jot down notes about it; ha!) occurred last week. Step one: As I was writing, the ink stopped drawing on the paper. I furiously jabbed the pen onto the notepad, swirling it around, running it up and down, back and forth. I shook it. Nothing helped. I threw it out.
I selected a second one. This one you had to click on. Applying pressure, BOING, it popped apart, so the when you pushed down, the cylinder that held the pen fell to pieces, not holding together to allow pressure to be applied and words written. I launched this one across the room.
I tried a third. It had been sitting in the container on my desk so long (not in use), that I couldn’t even draw a line with it. Discard.
Hoping to change my luck, I took one from my wife’s desk. No dice.
Finally, she suggested I use a fine-point marker that has its tip shaped more like a honed pencil than the more balled shape of a regular pen. This allowed me to sign whatever the heck it was I was trying to sign, sigh, and write down all these notes about the different ways that pens fail to serve their purpose.
Where do we send pen complaints? I’m lodging one right here. I expect the manufacturers and branders to pay attention. Your products don’t make the grade. They fail. Fix your mess. Send me free samples that work effectively and effortlessly for a year, and I will sing their praises.
If you don’t, I’ll spill the beans about your plots to rip us off and make us forget how to write by hand. Good thing I can send this online.
Not to be Mr. Nostalgic or anything, but back when I was growing up, the Bic pen lasted forever. In 4th grade, I’d watch the ink go down through the clear hard-plastic tubing, wondering when it would ever reach the end and actually stop writing so I could complain to the teacher about not being able to finish the assignment.
As an added bonus, you could pull the inner tube that held the ink out of the receptacle and use it like a straw to shoot spitballs at your buddy across the classroom. If you were clandestine enough, you got away with this and would slide the pointed writing end back into the tube just after you hit Paul in the forehead with a wet wadded piece of notebook paper.
If you were unfortunate, you could spend the rest of the class standing in the corner with the Dunce hat on, crying and complaining that Paul started it, so it was his fault. Now, pens not only can’t serve as a spitball device, but they fall apart or stop writing effectively within a couple months and have to be tossed in the ash heap.
This could be a plot by pen manufacturers to keep us buying extra product. Or perhaps there is an online conspiracy attempting to stop us from writing by hand completely, so we become fully dependent on sending electronic messages.
Both subterfuge attempts force us to throw pens away, grow angry and curse. As the ink evaporates in the delivery device, you scribble and scribble and nothing comes up. When this happens to me, as it does frequently (more on this in a minute), I rant. In fact this is at least the second time this column has dwelled on the declining quality of pens in the world.
The most recent incident that drove me batty (and to put pen to paper to jot down notes about it; ha!) occurred last week. Step one: As I was writing, the ink stopped drawing on the paper. I furiously jabbed the pen onto the notepad, swirling it around, running it up and down, back and forth. I shook it. Nothing helped. I threw it out.
I selected a second one. This one you had to click on. Applying pressure, BOING, it popped apart, so the when you pushed down, the cylinder that held the pen fell to pieces, not holding together to allow pressure to be applied and words written. I launched this one across the room.
I tried a third. It had been sitting in the container on my desk so long (not in use), that I couldn’t even draw a line with it. Discard.
Hoping to change my luck, I took one from my wife’s desk. No dice.
Finally, she suggested I use a fine-point marker that has its tip shaped more like a honed pencil than the more balled shape of a regular pen. This allowed me to sign whatever the heck it was I was trying to sign, sigh, and write down all these notes about the different ways that pens fail to serve their purpose.
Where do we send pen complaints? I’m lodging one right here. I expect the manufacturers and branders to pay attention. Your products don’t make the grade. They fail. Fix your mess. Send me free samples that work effectively and effortlessly for a year, and I will sing their praises.
If you don’t, I’ll spill the beans about your plots to rip us off and make us forget how to write by hand. Good thing I can send this online.