They say the pen is mightier than the sword. But how does it stack up against the pencil?
This is the question I was asked to adjudicate recently, when I was visited by a giant Pen and Pencil.
“Please don’t leak on the rug, I just had it cleaned,” I warned them.
“Why does everyone say that? I hardly ever leak any more!” said Pen, hotly indignantly.
“It’s hard to forget,” I answered. “I went through all of third grade with my fingers stained from the ink in those fountain pens they made us use.”
“But I’m a ballpoint!” Pen pointed out. “My technology is light-years ahead of those things. Literally! The Fisher company even invented a special ball-point that works in space, in zero gravity.”
“Or, you could just use a pencil,” said Pencil. “That’s what the Russians did.”
“How do you know that?”
“I heard it on ‘West Wing.’ ”
“Oh — a TV show,” said Pen.
“Say, why the big insistence on fountain pens, anyway?” asked Pencil.
“I don’t know. I never got the point,” agreed Pen. “They said it was for teaching kids penmanship. Which is something you wouldn’t know anything about…by definition!” he said, turning to Pencil. “You notice how they never call it ‘Pencilmanship’?”
“Or ‘Penwomanship,’ ” replied Pencil, primly.
“Let’s just call it ‘Handwriting,’ I said to them both. “Can you believe it used to be a subject on the report card, just like Math or English? I tell you, no one cares about handwriting anymore. You don’t even have to sign for using charge cards, half the time.
Or if you do, you can write “Attila the Hun” or “Queen Victoria” and nobody notices!”
“So that’s what you’ve been up to,” murmured Pen. “I’ve been wondering why I couldn’t read your signatures, lately.”
Pencil tried to change the subject. “Let me ask you something, Judy. In your earliest memories, what were you writing with?”
“Crayons, of course — but later on, pencils. I used to love the smell of the wood shavings when I sharpened them. I don’t know why it is, but now that I have an electric sharpener, the points break more often than ever.”
“I’m not surprised — it’s only a machine. And now tell me, what did you rely on for all those standardized tests?”
“Pencils. But that won’t help your case. Those tests were dreadful! Our teachers terrorized us about how we’d better color in all of the oval or the machines wouldn’t read our answers — and yet, for these very same machines, even the slightest random scratch might ruin our scores!”
Pen started to swagger. “Don’t forget, you need pens like me for signing tax returns, and checks, and all those forms at a real estate closing.”
“Good times!” I muttered under my breath.
“I’ve got it!” said Pencil, leaping to her feet. “Which of us would you rather have when you’re doing a crossword puzzle?”
I smiled. “A pencil, of course. As long as your friend Eraser comes along. Turns out, I’m wrong a lot. So yes, that’s someplace where I definitely need a pencil.”
It was Pen’s turn to pout.
“I really don’t want to have to choose,” I told them. “I love you both, for different reasons.”
We all fell silent. Suddenly, I thought of something.
“We’ve left out a whole big piece of the picture,” I told them. “Sketches! Art! I don’t know anyone who starts off an artwork using a pen — unless it’s specifically a pen-and-ink sketch. And even then, I remember doing something — it was calligraphy, actually, for my Bat Mitzvah portion. I used a bottle of “India Ink” and a special pen, to draw the Hebrew and English lettering on a poster…and I was scared to death I would tip the whole thing over and leave a big black blotch on the dining room rug. I can’t believe my mom let me work at the table!”
“And did you ever spill anything?”
“Apparently not. But I remember something else now, too: I always sketched out the whole thing in pencil, first; then went back over it in ink; then erased all the extra pencil marks later, after everything was dry.”
“So — you needed us both?” they said together. “For an important project like that?”
“Yes, that’s exactly right. So can we say it’s a draw?”
“Well, okay,” they both said, nodding. “If a partnership is good enough for your Torah portion, it’s good enough for us.”
And Pen and Pencil glided off into the sunset, both happy at last.
