It’s about 38 x 5 ¾” and weighs about one ounce. The outside is smooth and luxurious. The band is turquoise with patterned circles. When I hold it in my hand I possess a feeling of empowerment one might get when wielding a wand in one of Harry Potter’s adventures. Though how could I know? That’s fiction. This is fact. It’s a work of art. Its barrel is brushed turquoise metal and absorbs the light as if it has the heavenly expressed permission to do so and reflect it back for my pleasure. Another boutique cigar? No.
Today I received in the mail my very first fountain pen that I’ve owned in years. It’s a “Metropolitan Pop” fountain pen made by Pilot (#91436). Not only is the outer appearance stunning, but when you remove the cap, tassie or derby, the first thing you notice is the black section. It’s shiny and glistens when the light captures the curvature of the design. But what draws you toward this pen is the nib.
Ah, the fine nib. That small ingenious invention that draws ink into its tip to be evenly released as the words once formed in the mind will be expressed with delicacy and authority on whatever surface is available. Fewer and fewer people today write script with a ballpoint let alone scribble longhand with a fountain pen. But there is a place in this eclectic electronic egocentric ecosystem for such an extravagant antique tool of communication.
As much as I would like to compare the fountain pen with a cigar (perhaps as expected) because it does have many of the same attributes of a fountain pen, I will refrain. My hand is by my side. No. My point, (is that a pun?) is to explore another direction that this post is going to eventually reveal.
Yes, the cynosure will always be the cigar industry. But I tend to get bored easily with the same old subject. Even cigars. Yes, it is a passion of mine, but so is bodybuilding, so is art, so is fashion, so is literature, so is film, so is the theater, so is cooking, so is music – but even with all those delicious choices of delightful disciplines, one must veer off center to remain interested in the same passion that initially pulls you inward. So what must you do? Try something new.
Ergo, the reason for my introducing the fountain pen into my love of writing these daily posts and sharing them with you.
But just as I was deliberately slow in building my base of readers with Irv CigarBroker: The Blog! So it will be an unhurried, slow slurry of information about what the fountain pen has to do with the extension of Irv CigarBroker: The Human.
Yes, I already wrote the post that compared the fountain pen with the cigar. I read it over. Boring. At least to me. And cannot I be entertained with my own writing? Of course. It’s my purpose.
So it will become quite evident what I am doing and what direction I am headed. You will not notice the difference for some time. But my mind now is like it is said in Latin – a tabula rasa – a clean slate. I must, or this, this right here, the blog, the business, the acquisition of cigars, the mental strain of dealing with hundreds of personalities and their predilections for spewing out passive pomposity can become a grisly, gritty grind. And the only things I truly like to grind are sea salt or black peppercorns onto scrambled eggs.