Reaching into my desk drawer for a mechanical pencil, there’s only an old no.2 in desperate need of sharpening. Well, hello, little red pencil sharpener! Wow. How have I not lost you the last 40-something years. I don’t even remember when I got you, but I think it was in grade school and I have some remote inkling of you being bright and shiny from a prize box maybe. Covered in bits of residue, crayon, pencil, dust, blade tarnished. The finish is dull, the blade looks dull, and as I attempt to sharpen my pencil, although it reaches the lead, the blade is beyond dull. “I can replace the blade” I think. WITW.
It’s not at all difficult to wax philosophically over this.
Through all the migrations of my life, somehow, seemingly innocuously, this little pencil sharpener has managed to remain, mostly hidden away, in the debris and random clutter of my physical life. Randomly showing up and sharpening various implements over the years until it’s become basically useless, just a faint remote reminder of a time I did something and was rewarded with a trip to the prize box, where for some unknown reason, I chose the shiny little red pencil sharpener. Now this little red pencil sharpener is basically a piece of clutter taking up a minute amount of space in my desk somehow giving my inner child some form of validation perhaps. I still don’t feel like I can “just” toss it away, which seems epically silly. What power oh little red pencil sharpener. Another thing to cling to without logic, because it seems harmless enough. Is it though? Would I remember it in 10 years, 5 years, 1 year? I wonder. So many things I’ve let go of over the years that I no longer, or very rarely, recall. How now little red pencil sharpener?
Taking a moment to wax philosophical, what are some of your little red pencil sharpeners?