About Me

RIP Al Mayman, pen friend

Sat, 22 Mar 2008 12:03:37 -0500

A great deal of my correspondence is connected to my hobby of pen collecting. Several people from whom I have purchased or to whom I have sold pens are people I consider friends, though for the most part we talk of nothing but pens and we have never met. The degree of trust in the pen world, the general civility, and the shared enthusiasm over these bits of history and art that were once so very ordinary make for special friendships that are free of disappointments, worries, and politics that make every day, face to face life exhausting.
For many folks, pen selling is their business, and I have learned to respect the professionals in this world. One of the best was Al Mayman of Penultimate Fountain Pens, who passed away this week. I have been struck numb by his passing, though we only met a couple of times.
We corresponded over pens, and occasionally he would ask me for some technical help with his computer or website. I bought many many pens from him, but he dealt in high quality vintage pens, so I know he had customers with deeper pockets who were more key to his livelihood. He certainly never treated me like a second class customer, and every pen purchase I made, whether in person, via eBay, or from his pensite was treated as a most personal and individual sale.
Al worked for many years in men’s clothing, and when he told me that over dinner at a pen show a couple of years ago, some of his quirks as a penseller became immediately clear. He really helped me select pens, not just buy them. When I first started some serious pen buying, I wanted Waterman pens, especially ripple pens. He sold me several BCHR and rippled Waterman pens, but then at a show he introduced me to the overlays above. I hadn’t had the slightest interest in overlays (I thought they were gaudy), but when I wrote with these and he showed me different characteristics of the pens, I fell in love with them. This was no “hard-sell” approach, mind you; he wasn’t talking me into more expensive pens than what I was already about to buy from him, but he was teaching me to be more discriminating in what I bought. He remembered what I had from one purchase to the next, and he was helping me build a wardrobe of pens in which each item was a good fit for me.
He made an odd comment to me once--he seemed to be talking me OUT of buying one of his pens. He asked me if it was a pen I really wanted, or just one I would tire of and sell. My first reaction was defensive; I’m the consumer, and what I do with my goods once I have them is by business. I didn’t say that of course. Upon reflection, I realized he had felt hurt that I had sold a pen he had sold me, because it was not just a commercial transaction for him--my selling the pen had suggested to him that he hadn’t gotten the “fit” right.
My rapid movement from one pen obsession to the next (Waterman to Wahl to Swan, and now I’m looking at 51s and Sheaffer OS Balances) was a mystery to him, and I think took me down an notch in his eyes. I know this is goofy but I felt bad about this--like I had disappointed him by not having the good taste he thought I had at one point. Nevertheless, when he began selling modern pens, he got in touch with me for advice about Bexleys. Though he was the pro, and I don’t know crap about commerce, he listened and asked lots of questions about the Bexley market, and he actually incorporated some of my ideas into his strategy for entering the modern pen arena. It was a tough move, really, because Bexleys are sold by the very best people in pendom, including Richard Binder and James Partridge, but Al, because of some spectacular early offerings and because he was so very good at making pen buying feel personal and individualized (like getting a new shirt that fits just right) seemed to be making a strong entry into this crowded field.
The utter loss I felt when I heard Al had died was no doubt deepened because I had just let my beloved dog Fanny go (that is another entry for another day) the day before, and because I, truly, had been thinking about Al every day for the last week, and had meant to drop him a line just to say hello and remind him I was still on the lookout for a first year 51 I could afford. He hadn’t had any sales on eBay for a couple of weeks, which is very unusual for him, so I wondered if something was wrong. Then I read he was at the Long Island pen show just last weekend, so I assumed he was taking a break. In the email I had planned to give him some grief for slacking with the ebay sales (AL was anything but a slacker--no pun on his former profession intended).
But it was I who was to feel the grief this week. I will miss Al at the Chicago show, and I will very much miss his unique knowledge and thoughtful presence in pendom and my email inbox.

January

Sun, 27 Jan 2008 14:40:43 -0600

From mid January to mid March is not the best time for me. Too much cold, too much work, too little light--the moodiness begins around my mother’s birthday mid January, and they don’t lift until after the anniversary of her death in early March. In between is the anniversary of Dad’s death, their anniversary, my birthday--too many memories rushing in to the short days and cold weather. Private memories. The things few people in my present life know about me, and the things (the people really) know one in my future life will know.

This is one reason I so wish I could go to the LA pen show. It would be a good weekend to be away, to meet some of the new people with whom I correspond about pens. Many of the folks I trade with regularly or whose postings I see on Pentrace are indeed friends, though we have never met. Pendom has its pettiness, for sure, but it is generally such a good natured and friendly community, that I feel a part of something very special when I go to pen shows and meet folks. This week, for instance, a well known collector of Conway Stewart pens died, and I was saddened to hear it, and very moved by the words of mourning and appreciation posted on various sites about him. Though he and I did not correspond, I have benefitted from his extensive and web-shared knowledge of CS pens, and I was disappointed I never had the opportunity to meet him or tell him how much I appreciated the information he shared on his site.

The LA penshow would also mean a trip to the beach, a bit of sunshine, and visits with friends in and around LA. whom I haven’t seen in many years now. Alas, it would also mean starting a balance on another credit card, and I am determined not to do that, unless it is an emergency. I don’t think a pen show qualifies. Might change my mind in a few days, though....

Wood that I Could

Wed, 19 Dec 2007 08:13:52 -0600

If you don’t enlarge the image above, this end-grain cutting board I made looks pretty good. It only has the first coat of finish on it, so it will look a bit better when it’s done. Cut a bunch of boards, glue them together, cut them in strips again, glue those together, sand, rout an edge, sand again, and finish. Fabulous, right? Looked easy enough when Marc S demonstrated it on thewoodwhisperer.com (podcast also available on iTunes).

Not when I do it.

First of all, cutting all of those strips means having a good blade (I’m still using the one that came with my table saw) and applying consistent, even pressure to keep the boards flat against the fence. Okay, did that well enough. BUT, when it came time to do the next set of cuts, the cross cuts, well, that standard issue miter gauge didn’t serve so well. I haven’t build a sled for it yet. So, in the end, some of the glue joints weren’t as tight as they really should be.

And, you know, this bit about clamping and glueing looks so frigging simple, but it is so frigging NOT. How embarrassing not to be able to even glue things straight! But the boards slip around, keeping everything aligned and flat is just not something I could manage, even with calls. And space--I don’t have a giant table that is flat that I can walk around and trust to be level and clamp stuff to everywhere. So I thought, “that’s okay, I’ll just sand it all level.”

Uh, I’m sure somebody told me endgrain isn’t easy to sand, but I had no idea. I mean really, NO IDEA. Maybe it’s the combo of it being endgrain and purpleheart and hard maple (both tight grained woods with which I haven’t worked before), but I sanded and sanded and sanded, and I still couldn’t get rid of machine marks.

So I took the piece to school to use the belt sander there. Oh, it sanded the wood. Oh yes. A little too well.

I’m not sure you can see it in the above photo, but there is a divit in the surface of the board that is about an eighth of a inch. I thought about accentuating it and calling it a knife rest.

But it’s a cutting board. Who gives a shit if it isn’t level? As long as it is sanded smooth and the wood looks pretty (and engrain looks gorgeous), so what if it has a wave or two in it? So I sanded some more, up to 320. Then I moved on to my new router table. I thought a nice little rounding over of the edges would be good. Not too deep or dramatic, just a gentle curve.

Well. First of all, getting the right height on the cutter takes some kind of spatial imagination I don’t have. Just WHERE is the damned board supposed to meet the cutter to get a round edge? And how do I keep the f*er flat against the fence while that rapidly spinning blade is cutting into it, and is no doubt about to fly out of the machine and into my face?

And chip out? Holy crap, did I have chip out. Not just at the ends of the cut, either.

Cheap bit? Too deep a cut? Feeding too fast, too slow? Not holding the board down firmly enough? I don’t know. Irritated? Uh, yeah.

Cutting board 2 was a little better, so I sanded and sanded, tried to smooth out the chipped places, and finally put a salad bowl finish on the thing. Of course, Leah, my woodworking teacher last spring, issued many warnings about the danger--including the flamability--of finishes, and since I have a basement workshop, finishing scares me. So I sat next to an open door (it was about 15 degrees outside) to finish the thing, which soaked up about half a can of finish (perhaps a slight exaggeration). Relieved that the operation was over without incident, I popped the lid back on the can, which squirted finish on my glasses, sending me into a panic that I was going to go blind, so I felt my way to the laundry sink and ran freezing water over my face, stripped and put my clothes in the washer, and ran upstairs to stand under the shower for 20 minutes.

Then I worried that, even with the cutting board about 3 feet from the open door and all of the application stuff rinsed, bagged, and put in a metal can upstairs, that some vapor would make the furnace explode if the furnace came on, so I set the thermostat to 55 so the furnace would not ignite, grabbed a couple of blankets, and started shopping on the web. Then I wondered about the pilot light and those vapors.....

So much for my relaxing new hobby.

Thanksgiving

Thu, 22 Nov 2007 21:11:24 -0600

When Sharie called this morning she demanded I name four things for which I was grateful, and when I named all of my pets, she said they could only count as one thing. So, I thought for a moment, and I added to my pets, not in order of importance

that I am thankful I am living in an age of indoor plumbing
that I am thankful for her friendship
that I am thankful that I was lucky enough to have two good parents (who didn’t themselves grow up with indoor plumbing, by the way)

But I have never liked Thanksgiving, though there was nothing like my mom’s gravy. Thanksgiving was always too much rush, too much work for mom, and the celebration part too quickly devolving into the men playing cards and watching football, tons of dishes (which, I must admit, my sister and sisters in law took care of with dispatch) and stress on my part about the last couple weeks of the semester that were ahead. Even when my parents were alive, I often skipped going home for Thanksgiving, while spending at least a week with them at Christmas. I admit to feeling a pang for my mom and dad when I woke this am.

I also woke thinking of Hilesh, and when I turned on the computer, there was a sweet message from him. I have been incredibly, profoundly fortunate to have friends like him, who “read” me so very well, even from afar.

So today I just wanted time to myself to watch movies and play solitaire and work in my woodshop and read magazines. Except for scrambled eggs and homemade coffeecake at Michelle’s this a, that is what I did. This choice seems to have bothered a number of my friends, but I’ve been perfectly content with my TV dinners and time alone. I bet Michelle’s gravy was out of this world, though.

But the idea of taking a day to give thanks for one’s blessings is one I do appreciate, though I try to do that throughout the year, not just on the designated feel-grateful day. Today my mood has not been marked by the humility that often strikes me about how lucky my life has been, though, but rather by a kind of pleasant taking each hour as it comes, with a few doses of solemnity at the thought that my life is, in many respects, a much more solitary and, well, ordinary one than I ever thought it would be.

Time for a fire in the fireplace and some Annie Lennox on the stereo. Maybe one more Janet McTeer movie before turning in...

Gadgets

Thu, 15 Nov 2007 13:12:58 -0600

I love gadgets. Whether it is a plastic cube that glows in water (or when you touch both contacts on the cube with your tongue), or digital cameras, or fountain pens, or computers, I love messing with gadgets. I think a big chunk of my interest in woodworking is about the tools and gadgets involved, and I got a doozy this week.

The Incra LS Positioner Supersystem. It even sounds excessive, and when you think about how absolutely meager my talents are in the shop, well, it is beyond ridiculous that I have purchased one. Since I can’t measure precisely, maybe it will actually help my work, but the honest truth is, I just wanted the gadget. I have been watching the videos on the company’s website for months, amazed at the cleverness of the instrument, and the precision of its design. I even like the colors of the aluminum.

Of course, John is quite right. It’s about time I actually built something with all of these tools.