Category Archives: Thoughts & Essays

From the bowels of my mind, onto your plate. Original writings from me.

Ze Germans

Posted on by
Reply

This post is attempting to tackle two topics. I am almost positive they will not be intertwined in anything resembling an artful manner. So as you muddle into this ham-fisted essay, Dear Reader, remember I write this for my entertainment and not always yours. I’d say “caveat emptor”, but you’re reading this for free. -Eric

I’m somewhat embarrassed that other book I forgot to list reading in my last post was probably the one I enjoyed most. Eating the Dinosaur by Chuck Klosterman is a collection of essays much like my introduction to the author, Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs. These two books in particular are collections of essays, and Klosterman is only six years older than me, so a lot of the Gen-X-ish stuff he writes about really speaks directly to me. That, and I’m a recovering pop culture junkie and Kevin Smith fan. So a former music critic for Spin, Esquire, GQ, etc. that makes a lot of footnotes (have you seen how prolifically I use parenthesis?), hilarious and seemingly random pop culture references, and is also really dang smart and analytical was just irresistible to me.

And yes, the “Gen-X” and “random pop culture references” bits were specifically to say, I understand he may not be for everyone. But since Michael Chrichton is dead, Klosterman just might be my favorite living author.

Granted, I’ve only read two of his books and both are essay collections rather than longer narratives. I get that. But now I’m “stuck” living in Fargo with my job, and as fate would have it another of Klosterman’s books that I want to get now is Fargo Rock City. Fargo is a cute little town, but at least ten years behind the cultural mainstream. The big concert they had last year was Creed, and I was offered free tickets because “I don’t know who these new bands are”.

2012. Creed. “New band.” Let that swim around in your brain a little. There was a pretty quotable joke at Creed’s expense for being lame/passe in Without a Paddle, and that was in 2004.

I understand pop culture is fickle, and this isn’t intended to get off on Creed nor Fargo bashing tangent. No, more than anything I feel like I can identify with Klosterman even more now. But I’m also pretty sure if I continue down a path of “we have so much in common” praise I’ll come across like Jennifer Jason Leigh in Single White Female (poorly re-made as The Roommate in 2011), so I’ll mention here that he’s also a huge sports nut with a couple essays devoted to the topic in both books and I only read them to avoid missing any interesting insights or particularly funny zingers. I just don’t care about sports beyond college football and motorcycle racing, and even those are pushing it.

Anyhow, if essays comparing David Koresh to Curt Cobain, analysis of Saved by the Bell, why Garth Brooks went crazy and tried the Chris Gaines project or the stupidity of sitcom laugh tracks (both of which I’ll touch on later), I recommend either book. Eating the Dinosaur struck me as a little bit shorter and harder to follow, though that may have been because it was on my kindle and footnotes were relegated to a separate section rather than available at the bottom of the printed page, a la my copy of Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs. The majority of complaints from the minority of low-star ratings on Amazon claim he sounds like a know-it-all. As I’ve said, I think he’s just really dang smart; I suspect these readers didn’t like having their intellects challenged. If it sounds like a personality fit for you, give him a read.

Completely unrelated has been my exposure here while deployed on a NATO installation in Afghanistan to ze German culture. It’s been interesting, because I’m developing first-hand knowledge and experience with a people most Americans know anecdotally. In recent years the Germans have morphed into an almost mythical ideal in my mind because my exposure or knowledge of them has been primarily based on the vehicles, firearms or things they produce. Jony Ive may design some beautiful products for Apple, but his influence was Dieter Rams. I’m unsure if my awareness of design is a product of a more mainstream recognition or just the websites I tend to frequent, but references to Bauhaus have been prevalent for me the past two years. My Lamy pens are from Germany. My SIG P6 was made in West Germany, and Glocks are Austrian (close enough, to an American). I drive a Porsche 987 Boxster and a BMW motorcycle, and these people have autobahns and the Nürburgring. I even started listening to techno back in 2009 and loved the somewhat cold, modern functionality of my Volvo 850 Turbo (again, Swedish, but it’ll do for my purposes here). I believe efficiency should be considered a virtue. A people regarded for their precision (Swiss watches, again, close enough) were like gods to me.

Okay, so there was their bizarre fascination with David Hasselhoff and they always play the villains in movies, but whatever.

So actually being here and interacting with so many of them has been educational. I’ve only spent 24 hours in Germany before on a long layover. It was a beautiful country and they make my favorite beer in the world, but they’re still just people. It’s odd now to think “less” of a people than before yet still not think poorly of them. I haven’t met a German yet that can’t also speak English, and they pretty much ignore the speed limit they impose on everybody else when driving on base. They walk out into the street either oblivious or rudely demanding the right of way from vehicles, which is behavior completely unlike I expected. ArnieRaveThey play some really goofy music, like “Barbie Girl” in the gym (as opposed to American gyms playing rock almost exclusively), and can listen to Abba or disco without the slightest hint of giggling, mockery, sneering, irony, or embarrassment at a guilty pleasure. My wife even mailed me a cyalume glow stick so I could mock rave with them when they blast their music in our shared hangar.

But the thing that really cracks me up as a veteran of the American military is the ze Germans obviously have no dress code regulations on grooming/haircuts. Here’s a comically bad drawing I’ve done to illustrate.

image

That’s supposed to be a really long mohawk, slicked back like something out of Mad Men, worn with muttonchops. I’ve seen that particular hair cut minus the facial hair on more than one guy. I’ve seen otherwise attractive women with long hair, but either the left or right side of their head shaved. I’ve seen way too many guys rocking a chin curtain beard. (Very few people can actually pull this off, despite its wild popularity in the Fargo area. I think we’re being invaded by the Amish.) The only thing I haven’t seen in skull hair sculpting is a soul patch. I inelegantly recall Chuck Klosterman to quote why:

In the ten-thousand-year history of facial hair, no one has ever looked nonidiotic with a soul patch. In fact, the zenith of the soul patch’s legacy was Matt Dillon in Singles; Dillon grew a soul patch specifically because he was portraying an alt-rock d-bag.

Despite my concern over the chin curtain beard’s prevalence, even ze Germans have shown they have limits to their silliness.

Of course, this is really all just a difference of culture, what’s considered normal, and our general inability to see the really bizarre things we all do within our own societies. The example I offer up is polite laughter.

Klosterman’s essay on sitcom laugh tracks essentially asserts that we’ve all been subconsciously programmed to laugh at things that aren’t really very funny. (He uses a great breakdown of a Friends scene to illustrate.) But if you think about it, it makes sense in a way. How often do we type “haha” or “LOL” when we’ve uttered nothing of the sort? We don’t laugh out loud, but we claim to have in text messages all the time- all while thinking that guy on the bus who does laugh to himself at seemingly nothing is completely bonkers. And yet so much of our “laughter” is purely conditioned out of politeness, or for filler during impersonal conversations.

The Germans don’t fake laugh. To them, we all look like the crazy guy sitting on the bus. Klosterman writes, “This is not the only reason Germans think Americans are retarded, but it’s definitely one of them.”

Keeping that in mind has helped me stop calling people “weird” quite so freely and helped me experience foreign cultures better. Because apparently we’re all a little crazy, and we don’t even realize it. :)

Hours in the Day

Posted on by
2

I finally had to take some time off from writing here simply because there’s so much else to do. I’ve written about this before- trying to consciously choose doing something constructive with my time and thoughts here on the blog rather than fritter away the hours I have on Facebook or browsing celebrity gossip. And even then, there’s so much to do it can’t all be crammed in to each and every day.

So for the past while, I’ve been reading every single chance I’ve had. A physical book may still be preferable to e-readers, but my kindle lets me slip a thousand books in the back pocket of my jeans. And considering weight and space limitations when deployed (as I currently am) to Afghanistan, this little thing has become my best friend over here. Well, my kindle and the cans of flavored Blue Diamond almonds my wife sends me to break up the chow hall monotony.

I’m guessing it took me a total of about three weeks to read all seven Harry Potter books, and I’m really glad I did. I enjoyed them immensely. This deployment has been really good for me in some ways, as my last one was spent mostly writing in this blog, then watching movies and playing video games. I feel more… Aware? Quicker thinking? The description for what I’m feeling is escaping me at the moment. I think I’m just happy to love reading again. I loved reading as a kid, and then television slowly took over… Some books by Ayn Rand and then The Art of Racing in the Rain rekindled my love for reading a scant few years ago, but is was quickly extinguished my American Gods. I had loved reading a novel that seemed to qualify as “literature” and actually finding it engaging, rather than boring and dry and relying on thrillers from Michael Crichton.

I thought for a brief moment I was going to get to be one of the literati, a high and mighty intellectual snob looking down my nose at those simpletons watch American Idol. Turns out, not so much. (Though I still shake my head sadly at the popularity of “reality” television.)

I’m guessing I don’t read as quickly as I used to. And certainly the chaos of my office mates raucously shouting at each other, launching aircraft (actually having to work), and letters home to my wife or messages on Facebook all conspired to interrupt my reading speed. Because of this, I sometimes wonder how educated on a topic some people can really be. There’s so much to be caught up on, and seemingly even peer pressure to be aware of everything in the news, Mad Men, Breaking Bad, Sons of Anarchy, The Walking Dead, the latest book or album, the movie sure to be nominated for an Academy Award… That’s before the quite possibly endless amount of distraction on the internet from YouTube, Facebook, and the list goes on… (Fun fact: more hours of video were uploaded to YouTube in the last year alone than ABC, CBS and NBC have ever broadcasted in their existence combined.)

Frankly, this makes me think a lot of those oh-so-learned folks are full of it. Everyone who claims to have been through The Chomsky Reader and Dharma Bums and also professes to speak from any position of authority when combating, say, the Tea Party or Ayn Rand’s views or Cato Institute… And then turn around and comment on the latest in pop culture… No, I think it’s far more likely that even those who preach from on high simply fill their heads with what they prefer and take summaries or allow their opinions to be dictated to them by others. There’s just no way (unless their profession is a think-tank) that they’ve actually read both sides or all sides of so many social arguments. I just can’t believe any men’s magazine like Esquire is staffed by people who are actually up on everything they publish (which is why they have so many different contributors to create an issue).

So I don’t feel that bad about skipping my blog for a few days in order to read more or write my wife more love letters. And I certainly don’t feel bad about not seeing this movie or that TV show. I still have my vices, and can’t wait for the last few episodes of Breaking Bad. And I don’t feel inadequate or “lesser” for reading what I assumed were kids’ books instead of the latest hoity-toity novel by some pompous author. (Right now I’m thinking of American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis. The books becomes monotonous and excruciating to read, while the film made the same points much more succinctly.)

And even now, with all the noise from aircraft, phones ringing, and a certain coworker who I swear is the stupidest, loudest, and most boorish individual I’ve had to bite my tongue around in years… (I think I hate this guy and really wish he’d leave.) I’m still somehow strangely appreciative. Because as much as the interruptions frustrate and annoy me, or even fluster me when I’m under pressure or time constraints, it’s reminded to me to prioritize and maintain a clarity of focus. And if I have to ignore blog to prioritize writing to my wife (or reading books she loves so I can share that with her), then it’s worth it. And if it’s ignoring some inane “reality” tv shows or distracting website…? So much the better.

I know the “best” way for me to try and cram everything I want to accomplish in a matter of time is probably to block off certain hours of the day, or even dedicate certain days of the week to certain projects. But in the meanwhile, I’ll still wish I had 37 hours a day so I could accomplish even more.

Hand writing

Posted on by
5

Not sure if I’ve typed about this before, but I’ve recently developed a pretty strong love of writing longhand. And because my past few blog entries have taken so long with interruptions, editing, proofreading, inserting images, looking things up, creating appropriate hyperlinks… Today’s post should be pretty short. Because I’m basically taking going to take today off from the blog and write a love letter home to my wife and then break out my journal.

I’d like to see some studies done on this, but one thing I notice is that I’m more careful and deliberate when I write by hand. Putting ink to page removes the ease of correction that pixels on a screen give, so each sentence that I write for somebody else to read becomes that much more considered. It’s taken me a while to re-learn how to write in cursive after more than a decade of ignoring the practice and sometimes I start writing faster than I really can, leading to some unsightly corrections. But by and large I find the process to be much more fulfilling.

For one, handwriting is much more personal than helvetica on a screen. Who among us would really choose a simple email from a loved one over a handwritten missive that they took the time to craft themselves? There are a number of conveyances available to carry my words to another person, but only one with such a personal touch as my own handwriting. The different stresses and reliefs and indentations on the paper. Where ink flowed more vigorously from my Lamy 2000 fountain pen or was strained to wick out fast enough under a long and rapid stroke. Electrons do not capture this. An email can’t be spritzed was a hint of perfume or cologne for a loved one to smell. And when writing with a fountain pen, I have even more choices in colors of ink and types of paper (cotton vs. linen vs. laid, etc.).

The second thing I’ve noticed is that I enjoy the peace and quiet of crafting a letter this way. It’s really, REALLY nice to not have Facebook chiming in your ear with constant distractions, and I’m not looking things up on the internet. I simply observe, think, and write. The focus is much better and I feel more effective. I really believe the slower pace and permanence of the ink on the page encourages one to think and phrase things more clearly, and that will translate into day-to-day life simply because the brain is getting exercised in a beneficial way that can be applied elsewhere. I honestly feel longhand writing improves cognitive function. This essay mentions what I’m talking about.

My last observation before I stick in some links for your further reading is a simple one: appearances matter. And living in an age of typing and texting has contributed even further (I believe in my case, anyhow) to penmanship looking even worse than hurry and uncaring had already made it appear. My handwriting was atrocious and frankly, embarrassing. Writing as much as  possible longhand has helped me get back in the groove and improved my penmanship’s appearance. Because a professional man shouldn’t have handwriting that looks like that of a ten-year-old. I print capitol block letters most times for clarity, but even that can look nice or awful depending on one’s level of care. Writing in cursive (or script) again has improved my penmanship on all levels and made it look far more professional. Aaybe you work in an industry where you think penmanship doesn’t matter. All I’ll say is my handwriting looks like it belongs to a grown-up now so I can be taken seriously. Does yours/can you?

Write longhand. Write in cursive. There are actually good reasons to do so. Now if you’ll pardon me, I’m going to go write a letter to my wife.

4 benefits of writing by hand

8 Way Longhand Writing Frees Your Muse

How Handwriting Trains the Brain

Why you learn more effectively by writing than typing

A Defense of Writing Longhand

One last link, because I liked point #2 in the article

Flyover Country

Posted on by
3

While researching a brand of wristwatch yesterday I chanced upon an article where the term “flyover country” was levied most certainly as a pejorative.

I’ve been guilty of this myself a few times. It’s no secret that I don’t see eye-to-eye with the local culture/way of doing things in Fargo, ND where I currently reside at my employer’s pleasure. I only volunteered for the Fargo posting because nobody else wants to go there and I was sucking up to curry favor with management for my plan to request Italy, Germany, or England in another year or two. It became very apparent to me that I’m just not a midwest personality. I ache to be out west again, in mountain country and to have a city large enough to support a Cheesecake Factory within an hour’s drive. My wife heard an old man from Bismarck say they couldn’t live with the “hustle and bustle” of Fargo. We cracked up laughing, not derisively, but in amusement at our own culture shock. How two different people observe the same subject but see two different things. He sees “hustle and bustle” where we see a quaint, small town.

But as miserable as Fargo sometimes makes us (Arizona natives in a Fargo winter are a pretty bad match) and as firm as we are in our plans to leave when possible, one thought keeps shouting at me from the back of my mind.

These people that big-city folk like to call “hicks” grow and provide all our food.

Let that sink in a minute. I might really enjoy big city life, but you tell me what metropolis in America isn’t a net importer of everything that sustains living? Millions upon millions of people in America would starve if it wasn’t for those “hicks” or “bumpkins”. Think California or New York could feed their own state’s population if they had to? Not on your life. Texas could probably feed Dallas/Ft. Worth. The pacific northwest (where my wife and I dream of moving) would be fine. I don’t know how well Arizona could support Phoenix and Tucson.

My point is this: I don’t like living in the midwest (or northern plains country) and the way they do things, but I don’t grow my own food and wasn’t raised a hunter either. My food comes from the grocery store. But I know where it comes from before that, too. (Anti-Monsanto rants saved for a future post.) So I do my very best to keep my mouth shut and be grateful, because my well-paying job doesn’t actually make me self-sustaining.

The next time you want to talk about “flyover country” as if there’s nothing there worth consideration, consider what you eat for a month. Then consider being nice.

Social Overload

Posted on by
2

I haven’t written anything here lately (again) and I recently went a little bit nuts posting random thoughts, observations and links to cool stuff on Facebook. I don’t know how many emails I’ve received from Twitter basically saying, “We miss you, please come back.” I hadn’t been using Yelp but recently started checking into places again when I was struck with perplexsion (which is officially a word now): should I check in via Facebook or Yelp?

My Twitter (a social network I’ve completely given up on) shows up on my Facebook. My Yelp reviews and check-ins and my posts here on this blog both have the ability to be shared on Twitter and Facebook. And because I just can’t imagine it being good etiquette to double post everything (once shared to Facebook, once echoed from Twitter to FB) it suddenly became very easy to just give up on tweeting entirely.

Then there are forums, Google+, Instagram (another one I can’t figure out a use for), Pinterest, Tumblr, Foursquare, and sooooo many others. Xbox Live, friends and community on Steam, and Apple’s half-baked attempts like Game Center or Ping.

I think that’s why I so liked seeing this post on Gizmodo. Because after the aforementioned glut of activity on Facebook I realized I was spending too much time on the network- to the detriment of other, better options. Why was I posting little quips on Facebook rather than writing thoughts here (when it would re-post there anyway)? Or taking the time to put pen to paper instead?

There are only so many hours in the day, and if someone wants to spend more of them on Facebook there’s nothing wrong with that. I like Facebook. There is always a constant stream of fresh content to read provided by my friends, and that’s great! But after feeling so torn, even just briefly, for which social network I should be using or feeling like I wasn’t using one enough, etc… I suddenly realized that much like I don’t care about reading some celebrity airhead’s Twitter feed, chances are very low that anybody cares what I have to say on Facebook.

Posting cool links or updates about family life to share with friends on Facebook? Cool. Yelp makes sense, because it’s designed with a purpose. But who on Facebook really cares if I’m at Gary’s Burger Shack? And who’s really going to say to themselves, “I think I’ll check Eric’s facebook feed for a movie review!”? Nobody! If somebody wants a movie review, they’ll look it up at a real site like Rotten Tomatoes!

I think I’ve been misusing social media. And I think a lot of developers misunderstand it’s usefulness and just plug it in or tack on to an otherwise great product because “social is the future”. (For instance, I don’t understand why Pandora needs to be a social network.)

Frankly, I think I’m getting tired of feeling beholden to social media, as well. I’ll still check it from time to time, but I’ve got my wedding coming up, books to read, things to learn, and basically just way too much to do with too few hours in the day. I quit watching television playing videogames when I ran out of free time because other pursuits were more rewarding. Facebook is the mental junk food of today, and it’s time to go on a diet.

One racy pen

Aside

I forgot to include this in my last post: a pen I lust after but will probably never buy because it’s stupidly expensive, just like their cars, the Porsche Design TecFlex. I’m unsure if this one was actually made by Faber-Castell or by Pelikan, but just look at it. Any gearhead worth their salt is gonna love this thing.

The barrel is shrouded by woven stainless steel (gold highlight that I prefer is optional) just like brake lines in high performance cars. Gold nib, it comes with a piston converter so you can use a more conventional cartridge if you like. The cap is held on the tail by spring loaded ball bearings. When you unscrew the barrel from the tip you can see an insane amount of precision in the manufacture of the tip, the inner threads for the barrel and the outer threads for the cap just contrast beautifully. And it’s heavy and thick. This is a pen with some real substance. But at $425, I just can’t bring myself to do it, no matter how cool it is. That’s some real serious Christmas present money (only 101 days away as I publish this) and I’ve got a wedding coming up, niece and nephew’s birthdays, and basically just a whole lot of people I love more than myself that are due for some attention and doting.

But if I did get it, it would use only the most vivid red ink I could find. Vroom!

Well written

Posted on by
4

I have all my best ideas and revelations in the shower.

Now that you know exactly where I was and mostly what I was doing when this blog post occurred to me I’ll ask you the question that was running through my head: where did writing in cursive come from? The answer became pretty obvious: cursive was the most efficient means of writing when using a a quill and ink because it allowed for fewer lifts and presses of the tip and one continuous flow. While it may seems silly now in the age of the ball-point pen, a quill and even a fountain pen don’t have mechanically controlled flows of ink. A ball-point uses an oil-based ink and only writes if the ball itself is moving across the paper. But for centuries before that inks were water based and the flow was controlled only by capillary action. Think of how a paper towel will keep absorbing a spill into dry sections of the towel that are beyond where the fluid was on the surface being cleaned. If that quill stopped moving, a word or sentence could quickly be turned into nothing more than an ugly blot.

So why the historical reflection? Because on my deployment last year I had a startling realization: writing a letter home to a loved one just isn’t quite the same when it’s typed out in helvetica and represented by ones and zeros on a computer screen. Granted, that’s when I started this blog, but even that is only as permanent as I keep paying for the hosting. And a heartfelt letter written home to a loved one that has to be laser printed to made a keepsake won’t have so much as the author’s signature- just their word choice.

It suddenly dawned on me that not only had I abandoned writing in cursive about 15 years ago in favor of printing block letters, but I didn’t write at all anymore. Everything is typed these days. Typed into the keyboard of the laptop. Thumbs punching at a furious rate on the glass screen of a smart phone. For crying out loud, I talk to my iPhone and have Siri send text messages via dictation more often than I actually write something out by hand. And this is pretty sad for several reasons.

For one, despite never having great penmanship I’ve always enjoyed the experience of committing words to paper. There’s something innately wonderful about finding exactly the right words to convey an idea or emotion as your experiencing it in the moment. Even if you look back and realize it wasn’t fully formed or was somehow immature, the fact is you still have a record of that moment. Blogs and typing can still capture that essence (otherwise I wouldn’t be doing this, right?) but there’s something so much more tactile and real about imperfect handwriting and the subtle indentations in the paper made by the ball point rolling over it as it dispenses ink.

Think tactile and real don’t matter? The second reason it’s a shame to not physically write more is that historians have gathered a ton of information about the past from the journals and letters of even simple men. We live in an electronic information age right now, but have you ever lost a file because you forgot to save it? Or had a harddrive fail? Or gone back to a favorite website only to find it had been taken down? Sooner or later these things happen. Paper and pen are by their very nature physical objects, with all the permanence you provide for them (even just a cardboard box in a dry attic will keep them for years).

A love letter home to somebody special should be something special for that loved one. Sure, an email is great and can be quite long. You can say an awful lot and it’s much faster to type than to write the same message out longhand. But if you really love this person, is it the time that matters or the communication of the message? A hand-written letter is something for them to hold. It’s a piece of you, by nature of time spent crafting it, your unique handwriting building it, and your thoughts in that moment composing it. (A quick splash or spray of your cologne or perfume never hurt, either.) That hand-written letter is instantly a keepsake that can be re-read or even passed down to children and grandchildren. Your simple words to a loved one can become a monument to who you are.

I’ve written here in the past about how I prefer to shave in an old fashioned method. Maybe as I get older I begin to appreciate more and more “antiquities”. But I don’t think I want to let something so classic essentially die in my life when it can convey so much more emotion and personal connection than a typed out electronic document. Beside that, I like to think that since I’ve been practicing these past few weeks my handwriting has improved a great deal. And since nobody else is physically writing anything anymore, my penmanship looks marvelous now by comparison!

Pens.

Oh my goodness, who knew there were such cool pens out there?!?! For a brief while I flirted with the idea of buying a Montblanc Meisterstück 149. This is one of the pens to serious collectors, and even those who think it’s over-hyped would admit it is something of a standard. But being a luxury good company, it is grossly overpriced and they go for half or less the new retail cost on eBay. It may be an 18k gold nib, but that “precious resin” barrel is still just plastic. There’s nothing wrong with a Parker or a Cross, but they just seemed to be everywhere so there was nothing special about them either (although Parker is trying to change this and eliminate an “entry level” image).  Here are some really cool pens I’ve found for substantially less than a Montblanc 149, and arguably more interesting.

Retro 51. Their “Tornado” line of pens are nice and not-too-thick, with a pleasant heft and outstandingly smooth flow of ink. The local art supply store keeps one by the till for signing credit card receipts and I was instantly in love with the way it wrote. That’s never happened to me, because a pen is a pen is a pen, right? It turns out that I liked it so much because while it was a rollerball (which we all know writes smoother than ballpoint) it wasn’t the typical gel based ink, but rather water based like a fountain pen! Pictured here is the Vintage Metalsmith series, each named for an American president. They were $30-36 USD each, limited edition and becoming scarce, but you should still be able to find them if you look on Amazon or eBay. For a pen honestly hewn from metal rather than painted plastic, the entry price is worth it. Factor in the wonderful flow of ink, and the Jefferson (first on the left) has quickly become my favorite pen. I bought my fiancee the Franklin (3rd from left) and would have bought a Lincoln (2nd) if they were still in stock. The Madison didn’t strike me, but maybe in person would be different. Regardless, even the presentation is wonderful, with great retro art on the boxes and a very cool and colorful aluminium tube inside the box. Better presentation than one would expect from a budget pen. Even their Classic Lacquers line is a stainless steel body, beautifully painted, and can be had for $20-25 USD. Just remember that water based ink will blot if left stationary on very absorbant (computer printer) paper.

Lamy. This is another new discovery of mine that I’m very much falling in love with. I bought and now write with a Lamy 2000 fountain pen, and it’s wonderful! I love how vivid the inks are, and that I can get several different inks or even blend my own for unique colors. I love that even something as simple as a pen seems to be overbuilt if it’s made in Germany. I like the simple and timeless Bauhaus design influence- very modern and sleek. It costs less than one-fourth the price of a new Montblanc 149. But mostly I love the feeling of sitting down to write something with intent, whether it’s one of the journals I picked up or a letter to my sweetheart on some 24 lb. linen paper. Lamy has lots of other designs and models, as well. I really like the nice cases their Dialog series comes in, even though the only writing instrument in that series I care for is actually a “lowly” ballpoint. Even the box for a $12.50 Tipo rollerball is over-engineered .

You don’t have to spend a lot on cool pens. You don’t have to buy fancy paper. These are things I did because I want to dress up the experience of writing the letter (the pen) a little bit for myself as a reminder to put in the best effort and make a memorable experience (the letter) for my reader. Whether it’s my fiancee, wife in a few short months, or the children we have later. Writing something by hand can imbue that simple note with a little bit of who you are, even if it’s just a cheap Bic ballpoint and Mead notepad. If the fanciest you want to get a Cross pen, they make some beautiful writing instruments for a really fair price. Just write something. A letter for your kids to open a year from now. An unexpected love note to your spouse or girl/boyfriend. A thank you letter to your parents for not strangling you during your teenage years (that may just be me). Take advantage of the relative immortality your physically written words can have, but don’t dwell on it and try to be false or built-up in your pretense for writing. Just capture that perfect moment, the joie de vivre of sharing something with another human. Share your time and thought, and by nature just a little piece of yourself in this method slowly being forgotten.

If you’re genuine, and really writing something from your heart to somebody you care about, you won’t be able to help it. It’ll likely be the most well-written thing they read.