2006 Raleigh Pen Show July/August 2006 Stylophiles Online

Trip Report: The 2006 Raleigh Pen Show

By Richard Binder

There's more to a pen show than pens. Or the show. Which is why this show report is titled "Trip Report": it's more than you bargained for. So mix a Martini (Tanqueray and Noilly Prat vermouth 12 to 1, two Pastene Queens on a toothpick, shaken with ice until it pours cloudy), put up your feet, and relax.

Barbara and I live in New Hampshire, and since I like flying about as much as I like a sharp stick in the eye, we drive to pen shows. Raleigh is just far enough that it's not a one-day drive. We took off for the show before sunup Wednesday, stopping overnight in Chester, a Virginia community that abuts the southern edge of Richmond. There is on the southern outskirts of Richmond, basically across the road from Chester, a superb restaurant called the Half Way House. Located in an 18th-century post house on the Richmond-Petersburg road (now U.S. 1, the Jefferson Davis Highway), it has been run by the same couple since 1982. If you ever have the opportunity, go there. It was for us, on that Wednesday, the perfect escape from the road and the drudgery of preparing for the show, an interlude for charging the batteries, so to speak, before switching into high gear for the show.

We arrived in front of the Cary, NC, Embassy Suites at midday Thursday, got checked in, and repaired to the trading room. Most of the usual suspects (Al Mayman, Terry Mawhorter, Robert and Rita Lott, Lee Chait, et al.) were there, and I went a little bit crazy. From Rob Bader I bought a junk-box Snap-Fil that now works just fine and is possessed of a remarkable XXXF wet-noodle nib. From Al Mayman I bought stunning Waterman's Ideal Nº 452 filigree with a factory original double-broad stub nib that I have juiced up to a ridiculous degree of wetness.

From Lee Chait I bought a Parker Falcon 50 Flighter. Robert Lott's table provided a very nice Estie, a Forest Green "51" Special, and a taper for my black Pneufold so that I can use it as a desk pen. And from Susan Wirth, who showed up in the middle of the afternoon, I acquired seven, count 'em SEVEN, Waterman X-Pen Juniors in six different colors and some of them still stickered, along with a Platignum capillary filler that I'd never even heard of before. And this was just Thursday.

Howard Levy rolled in about midafternoon and unrolled a case of interesting pens. "Interesting" is always a relative term; I know plenty of folks who would sneer at a pen less than 5" long capped, but Howard's latest flight of fancy is right there, and it's a wicked cool little pen. It involves the marriage of a Waterman Gentleman nib section assembly with a Bexley-made barrel and cap, and Howard named it the Watley, for Wat(erman) and (Bex)ley.

Dinner with a few friends was in the hotel, whose restaurant is more than adequate. I purchased from David Isaacson reproductions of two 1930s Pen Prophet issues that David had lent to Bill Acker for copying. If they're not already available on Bill's Web site, they will be soon.

Friday was a full set-up day, so we actually had to work. But first there was the famous Embassy Suites breakfast. This is a buffet (no surprise) with an addition consisting of cooked-to-order specialties (surprise!). Want a couple over easy? No problem. Western omelet? Just ask. Belgian waffle? Gotcha covered. Oh, did I say that this is free? Yes, it's part of the deal for all guests, not just pen show lurkers.

Once in the ballroom, I did setup while Barbara stayed upstairs to stage our new pens on the displays that I built a couple of shows ago. Barbara arrived with the pens, we finished setup, and things started hopping. While this wasn't the busiest Friday we've ever had it wasn't bad, either. We saw many familiar faces and many new ones, sold a few pens and worked on a few others. Overall, for other dealers the day was a bit slow. Maybe more than a bit. But it ended, the Mawhorters ejected us all from the ballroom so they could lock the doors, and we all went out to dinner.

Dinner was at the Bonefish Grill, two blocks away, with a party of nine headed by Lee Chait, who knows every restaurant on the North American continent. Present were Alan and Sherry Hirsch, Lee and Susie Chait, Gary Lehrer (unfortunately not accompanied by Myrna, who got stuck working at her real job), Francis Meinhardt, Jim Rouse, and (of course) Barbara and I. Yes, Bonefish is a chain (owned by Outback), but there's a killer appetizer called Bang Bang Shrimp (tender, crisp on the outside, and in a creamy Buffalo-like sauce) that trumps the "chainness" every time. I've even ordered it as an entrée on occasion.

After dinner we all trooped back for the auction, which Terry had delayed from 8 to 8:30 so we and other diner-outers could get back. Without killing ourselves on the highways. It was a great auction, with some really sweet items that I wanted but did not buy, including a Mandarin Duofold Juniorette, a Mabie Todd Swan with a nib that would make a wet noodle seem stiff, a Parker "51" with a smooth sterling cap and one of Howard Levy's Nassau Green hard rubber conversion kits, and two Bexley pens of which one was an Owner's Club. I bid on about a dozen items including a couple of Parker 45 Brocades, one GF and one sterling, but dropped out of all but one lot, a really pretty hard rubber Duofold Junior. The festivities finished with some insanely spirited bidding over a VACUMATIC banded Silver Pearl Maxima that ended up in the hands of Al Mayman.

Saturday was the big day, and we were busy all day long meeting zillions of new people and tweaking pens. I did get a short break in the late afternoon, which hiatus I put to immediate use in the acquisition of two exquisite Lady Skripserts that were originally priced on a par with a Snorkel Crest. Prices have changed a little since the '50s, and I paid for the two pens something less than I'd pay today or a Crest in similar condition. (One of the Ladys was in A2 condition with its moiré satin slipcase, belt clip and all; the other was NOS with its chalk marks still very clear on the section).

The happy hour proved very profitable. (Have I mentioned happy hour yet? Every day, 5:30, rain or shine. Free. Another amenity. Drinks and some nice munchies, frequently hot ones. For me, on Saturday, it offered the opportunity to schmooze with David Isaacson, who is actually a very pleasant and good-hearted guy, and to acquire a very, very nice Parker "51" in Forest Green (are you seeing a trend here?) and the two 45 Brocades that I'd passed on at the auction. The "51" was part of a bag lot that included this and nine other "51"s, all of them boxed and all but a couple of them complete sets, that David had tripped over during the day.

Dinner, another Chait-led expedition, saw us riding up to Bullock's in Durham, where the food is good-and plentiful. By the time our Baby Backs arrived, we really didn't need them, but I ate two as a token. There were again nine of us, including Joe Nemecek and Roger Cromwell. Jim Rouse was along once again, as were the Chaits and the Binders and two whose identities haven't remained with me. No, I didn't drink them away; Bullock's has no liquor license. Go anyway; the Baby Backs are to die for.

After dinner a bunch of us congregated in the hotel bar, where we cussed and discussed a variety of fascinating minutiae, mostly revolving around some arcanely unusual Vacumatics. Which means the Vac Quack was there, among others. Eventually I crashed, and Barbara and I toddled off to bed.

Sunday was one slo-o-o-ow day. I was moderately busy a fair part of the time, but as the afternoon progressed the supply of innocent victims dried up and I went off to look at other tables while keeping half an eye on the home field in case someone showed up.

One of the pens I worked on during the weekend was a Parker Sonnet Fougère belonging to my dear friend Fran DeRespinis, and for dinner Sunday Barbara and I went out with Fran and his wife Trish to another of those really really good downtown restaurants that we like so much; this one is called Five Eighteen because it's at 518 Whatever Street. (I wasn't noting street names; it was Hungry Hour.)

Monday was "let's go home" day, and we took off about an hour later than we should have. That breakfast buffet was calling its siren song to us, and we had to stop. Howard Levy happened by with his son Mitchell, and Howard is one of the more enjoyable breakfast companions in this corner of the galaxy, so it was time well spent. (Mitch is no slouch in the conversation department, either.) But, having gotten away late, we ran into traffic north of Washington, and we had progressed only about halfway through New Jersey by the time we needed to be finding a hotel. Guess who lives in the middle of New Jersey. Dinner at the Big Fish, with Daniel Kirchheimer, his wife Jill, and their son Matthew-to whom we presented a Lamy abc school pen-worked for us. Daniel was really wanting to show me his pens and his shop, and I really wanted to see them, but I needed a bed more than I needed to play pens, and we ended up returning to the hotel.

Tuesday we finished the drive home. Yup, a pen show eats up a week, but what a glorious week it can be! Pens are fun, and the Web is fun, but if you don't go to shows you're missing the best part of the hobby. There are people, lots of people, who share your interest. Some are behind the tables, some are in front of them. You get to see more people at a show than you see names on Pentrace and Stylophiles and FPN combined. You get to rub shoulders with the rich (hah!) and famous of the pen world, people like Andy Lambrou and Howard Levy and Chuck Swisher and Sam and Frank Fiorella. You get to hold and fondle pens, pens, and more pens. You get the after-show schmoozing in the bar or lobby or restaurants (hotel and elsewhere). And for family members who don't dig pens, there's no reason not to bring them along-most shows are in "destination" cities where there are things to do for everyone. (Think Washington, DC, with a free hotel shuttle to the Metro and rooms for less than $100.00 a night.)

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