Just sit right down
And you'll hear a tale.
A tale of a pen mis-named.
Whose english translation
was funny to the end.
Was funny to the end.

The maker was a famous name
who's made pens for years.
But named this last pen bad enough,
to bring people to tears.
TO bring people to tears.

We'll give it a Nautic name
to recreate the sea.
Instead they chose a word that
means a pen brought to it's knees.
A pen brought to it's knees.

A skipper is a sailing man,
A pen described as such
makes one want to pull the feed
and toss the evil cuss.

So 'ware you modern makers
of inky fountain pens.
Don't name your newest model
by a problem of fountain pens.
A problem of fountain pens.

Yeah, it's a tough life out here on the beach. The lovely Diane has granted me a few minutes on her laptop to check my mail, etc. Darrell has obviously been working overtime! I'm continually amazed at his clever lyrics...but it ain't gonna stop me from throwing out a few of my own clinkers.

Here's one I thought about on the drive down to Cocoa. The final line came through first and I had to struggle through the rest to make it work. Music (and original lyrics to "Hot Rod Lincoln") by Charlie Ryan, ca. 1955. Personally, I hear 'Commander Cody and the Lost Planet Airmen' playing in the backround on this one... BTW, Mr. Ryan wrote the original while actually building the car in the song. He and his wife still make it to the Lincoln car collector shows and the original car still drives like a bat.

Hot Rod Estie

Well, you've heard the story of the calligraphy race,
When Osmiroids and Sheaffers were settin' the pace.
That story's true, no need to look,
Cause I was a drivin' that Esterbrook.

It's got a pearl green barrel with a red pearl cap;
That open work clip still has plenty of snap.
It's got twelve different nibs, completely Mottishaw;
And an oblique triple-broad that just won't stall.

It's got two different tassies and the lever’s bent,
A worn out imprint and a blocked cap vent -
The rings are brassed but I'm not scared,
The section’s tight and the bladder’s fair.

At the community college late one night;
The professor was tryin’ to teach us to write.
We were copying couplets from Ogden Nash,
But I always finished first, with flair and dash.

Then, all of a sudden, in the wink of an eye,
A Maxima vac passed us by.
The remark was made, "That's the pen for me."
But, by then, his tassie-ring wuz all you could see.

Well, the fellers ribbed me for bein' behind,
So I started to make that Estie unwind.
Switched the nib to a flex and, man alive,
I showed them some copperplate on real warp drive.

Well, I did the Gettysburg Address in a minute and ten;
Twisted the stool seat right off the end.
I had paper shootin’ all over the floor;
I said, "That's all there is - this ain't no Moore.”

Now the fellas thought I'd lost my sense;
My vertical strokes looked like a picket fence.
They said, "Slow down, I see spots.
Your Unical numerals just look like jots."

Went through the Psalms and Goethe too;
I crossed my fingers and threw off a shoe -
My nib was smokin’, it was hotter’n toast;
The guy beside me was writin’ to Emily Post.

‘Casey at the Bat’ was goin’ in the sack
When I started to gain on that stripey Vac
I knew I could catch him and pass in a blink
But of course, when I did, I'd be short on ink.

There was ink a squirtin’ from outta the bladder;
You could feel the tension but it didn’t matter.
I said, "Look out, boys, I've got a license to fly"
And that Maxi Vac pulled over and let me by.

All of a sudden the nib started a tweak’n;
Down in the section she started to leak'n.
I looked at the lectern, the Prof’s exit was zesty;
The Dean was after my Hot Rod Estie.

Well they hauled me out and into the hall.
Made me call my pop at his job in the Mall.
He said, 'Son, you’re gonna get me really testy,
If you don't quit writin’ with that - Hot ... Rod ... Estie!’

===Marc

If I had a fountain pen
I'd ink it in the morning
I'd write in the evening
snails all over this land

I'd ink it in the morning
I'd snail in the evening
I'd write plenty of snails
All over this land

Now I've got a pen
And I inked it this morning
I'll sit right down and snail
all over this land
I'll write about the color
I'll write about the smoothness
But most of all, the important thing
I'll write to my friends

If I Had a Thick Pen

To the tune of “If I Were a Rich Man”

Dear Lord, you made many thin pens.
I realize it’s no shame to have a thin pen,
But it’s no great honor either.
So would it have been so terrible if I had a big fat one?

If I had a thick pen
Ya da deedle didle, doodle doodle, doodle doodle den...
All day long I’d doodle doodle den,
If I had a nice thick pen.
I wouldn’t have to grip hard
If I had a tick and ticky, thick and thicky
Ya da deedle, doodle doodle, pen.

I’d write an enormous epic with books by the dozens
Right in the middle of my desk.
A real publisher would buy it all up with glee.
There would be a lucrative movie deal with Ron Howard,
And an even longer sequel next.
And one script coming later, just you see.

I’d fill my page with words and pictures and names and quotes
For everyone to read and buy.
Each little loop and line and mark and jot
Would land like sunlight in the eye
As if it were made by a big thick pen.

I see my love, my honey, looking like a thick pen girl
With enormous silver boobs
Montegrappa pen- Aphrodite style.
I see her strutting around and naked as a jaybird
Her hips disproportionately huge
Oh that would surely make this pen man smile.

The editor at Pen World would ask me my thoughts this month
I would tell him, “Feature that one,”
Like a writing guru Einstein.
“That pen there my friend...”
“This one’s quite lovely...”
Making judgments that affect his bottom line.
And it won’t make one bit of difference what’s on the cover good or bad
When you’ve got a thick pen you don’t care.

If my pen were thick I’d have lots of cash
To indulge my every grotesque whim
And maybe go on a spree in New York City.
And I’d throw money all around like a drunk on a week long binge
That would be the greatest thing of all (sigh).

If I had a thick pen
Ya da deedle didle, doodle doodle, doodle doodle den...
All day long I’d doodle doodle den,
If I had a nice thick pen.
I wouldn’t have to grip hard
If I had a ticky ticky, thicky thicky
Ya da deedle, doodle doodle, pen.

Lord who made both pencil and Perchin,
Who decreed my fountain pen be thin,
Would your cosmic joke be ruined in the end,
If I had a BIG THICK PEN?

but, well, you know.

Please imagine a chorus of late Elvis gospel singers emoting vigorously behind you, as you read this to the tune of “In The Ghetto”

In the Pen Store

The pollen flies
On a hot and moist suburban day
A disposable bic gets shipped away
To the pen store.

And the owner cries.
‘Cause if there’s one thing that he don’t want
Is another bland and cheap ball point
In the pen store.

Now people don’t you understand
We gotta love the tools of the common man
Or they’ll think we’re all snobs someday.
Take a look at that jotter there
Do we turn our noses in the air
To ignore ball points and look the other way?

As the store opens
The disposable bic with the little black cap goes in the case
As the days go by
And it gathers dust
And it starts to roam the shelves at night
Bully fountain pens and start ink fights
In the pen store.

And then one night in desperation the bic robs a montblanc
It tries to escape with a stolen star but it didn’t get far
And the owner cries
As the pens gather round the angry little bic leaks his black ink
On the carpet
And it leaves a stain

On a hot and moist suburban day
A disposable bic gets shipped away
To the pen store
And the owner cries

I don't want to lose....this good pen.....thatI got
If I did.. I would surely....surely lose a lot
It writes better ....than any pen I own
It's like thunder, lightnin', it writes so smooth it's frightening
I better fill it... with ink baby

Well I'm not superstitious, ....about them
You know I searched a lot, just to find one ... one I like a lot
spent some time on pentrace, you know it meant a lot
They helped me ... they really helped a lot

Just one touch to the paper the words they seem to roll
I couldn't do it, without it it really means so much
Just keep- posting.. and reading.. you can learn a lot
It's like thunder,lightnin' this pen writes so smooth it's frightnin'
I better log back on... to Pentrace baby

I got to log log log back on
I got to log log log back on
I got to log log log back on