Like Doing Brain Surgery at Panera
I was sitting at Panera this morning, writing, as usual, in my journal. And, as usual, some stranger took the opportunity to sit down and chat. Now, you can do almost anything at Panera without attracting attention (knit, read a book, have an argument on your phone), but the minute you try writing something with a fountain pen, you attract attention. At least I do. It’s like someone is performing brain surgery with a butter knife. People are amazed that it is even possible. That’s fascinating because we are not that far removed from a time when absolutely every well-organized adult had a fountain pen. (Probably the 1950s.) My mother had a pen in her purse, filled with purple ink. My father had one for signing important documents, filled (of course) with blue-black. I got through high school with a series of cheap pens filled with cheap blue ink. Banks had fountain pens in holders for people to write checks. (Ballpoints were kind of unreliable....