I’ve had the same Parker Pen since 2003. I’ve also had the same hand since 1987.
With that pen I completed all my exams for Year 12 and University. It’s also been used by Shaun Micallef, Andrew O’Keefe, Steve Vizard, Sam Mac and The Late Richard Marsland. Derryn Hinch has held it. But he didn’t write with it.
I won’t get into the things my hand has held.
My ability to be a somewhat competent comedian rests mainly on two factors:
1. My ability to generate good ideas, and
2. My ability not to forget them.
Ever since I started doing radio in 2006, I’ve carried a pen and a pocket-sized notebook around with me, jotting down thoughts, jokes and other ideas as they come to me.
People generally seem amused that I carry a pen and paper around with me: “Why don’t you just type a note into your iPhone?”
Call me old fashioned. I like to write.
For the first time last Christmas, I finally went through my collection of used notebooks and put all my unused ideas into a word document. The resultant 450ish ideas ended up 33 pages long and consisted of more than 12,000 words!
That’s 6 years of always having a pen:
But my pen rewarded me in a new way this week, when I found myself locked out of my apartment.
Since I moved into my own place in Hawthorn in March, I’ve found myself pondering how long after slipping on the wet bathroom tile and cracking my head open would my body lie there decomposing before someone bothered to come looking for me?
Probably at least couple of days.
My other fear is being locked out. With my family in another state and no one nearby with a spare key, it would be incredibly inconvenient.
However, that’s exactly what happened on Wednesday when I went out to purchase a baguette and a wedge of brie for a dinner party I was attending that evening.
I arrived home to find the screen door was locked. This was bizarre for two reasons. Firstly, I don’t ever lock the screen door. And secondly, it’s impossible to lock the screen door without the key.
The screen door is probably as old as the apartment – circa 1968 – and features a key that looks like something out of Sherlock Holmes:
And considering the screen door is full of holes and merely provides a lovely view of the doors to neighbouring apartments, I decided I wasn’t going to use it.
I’ve got enough pens and notebooks in my pockets already. I’m sure as hell not carrying the key to “The Secret Garden” with me everywhere I go.
But what the hell? How come I can’t open the screen door?
After jiggling it around for a bit, I did the same with the door – to no avail.
So I called the real estate agent. After being on hold for 10 minutes, they told me they didn’t have a spare key and suggested I call the landlord. The landlord was 4 hours away near Lakes Entrance and although had a key, was unable to deliver it to me. He suggested jimmying it open or, sigh… calling a locksmith.
Upon closer inspection, I realised it wasn’t actually the locking mechanism which had “locked” the door. It was the metal latch that should simply retract when the handle is turned.
For some reason, something inside the door had malfunctioned and the latch had popped out, effectively locking the door. It was no longer responding when the handle was turned. You can see it extended here:
I wonder what could have caused this? Perhaps the 5.2 magnitude earthquake the night before? Who knows. It’s an old freaking door.
I tried wedging it open using my Boost Juice membership card, which was the least important thin piece of plastic on my person. But it wasn’t strong enough. Even after doubling it up with my Australian Blood Donor’s card, the plastic just kept bending.
The other keys I had with me were all too thick and short to be effective. The only other thing I had on me was my beloved pen.
Incredibly, I was actually able to use the pen’s metal ink refill as a “ramp” for the door. But I really had to force the door open, which left the pen insert crippled:
And can you believe it… it still writes!
So I got back in my apartment and avoided keeping another locksmith in business. Thank God.
Of course, I then managed to lock myself INSIDE the apartment; an even more frightening prospect. Especially if there’s a fire (I live on the third floor and it’s the only way in or out).
That really was the final “curtain” for that screen door. It now resides off its hinges.
So what did I learn?
1. Always have a pen. And
2. The “M” stands for MacGyver.
Kind regards,
David M. Green
Are you writing this down?