Sitting here trying to remember what I remember of the Ohio Pen Show, I'm struck most of all by the great time I had. All day Saturday and all day Sunday, I was chained to my table, grinding nibs and adjusting tines and in general working for my keep, yet the overwhelming impression is one of good cheer and camaraderie.

It started Thursday afternoon, when Barbara and I blew into town. Len Provisor appeared pretty much out of nowhere, bearing a new medium-nibbed Parker 51 for me to regrind into a stub. Not far behind came Giovanni Abrate, who may well win the prize for the most jovial person at the show; I can't bring to mind a moment when I saw him wearing any expression other than a smile. The smiles came in all degrees, from the subtle sardonic grin to major outbursts of hilarity.

On Thursday I also acquired one of my desiderata, a 1932 Blue and Black Sheaffer's 3-25 Balance. It was in the possession of Rick Horne, whose price for it seemed, well, acceptable. There's some brassing on the band and clip, and neither Rick nor I spotted the split section, but doggonit, this is one sweet pen! Rick also had three Chiltons, one a gorgeous Wing Flow that I swore I'd buy from him if he still had it Sunday afternoon. Fortunately for my wallet, he sold the Wing Flow shortly after I saw him on Thursday!

On Thursday evening, as I really began to feel the impact of my 12-hour drive from Nashua, I ended up in the hotel bar with Len, Giovanni, Rick Propas, David Isaacson, and a couple of others whose faces are now a blur.

Friday afternoon, after the requisite amount of dithering, I gathered up "The Coffin," the oversize wheeled suitcase that houses my paraphernalia on tour, and repaired to the ballroom to set up and maybe say hi to a few friends. The table I picked was next to the one staked out by Frank Dubiel, and we had a long and fascinating chat, after which I took out Len's 51 and stubbed it for him. He professed himself pleased, and that seemed to set the tone for the weekend's work!

I shall of course cherish the memory of hearing my name called as the winner of a prize in the drawing at the pizza party Friday evening; the prize I brought home with me was a FILCAO Leader 1918 celluloid fountain pen. The pen Giovanni had donated was in the brilliant Tuscan Sunset color; but when on Saturday morning he heard my reverent mention of Cracked Ice, he pretty much snatched the pen away from me and returned with a Cracked Ice -- which Barbara thereupon appropriated. I stuck in a rOtring red-brown cartridge for her; it harmonized nicely with the lines in the celluloid pattern, but she thinks now that she'd prefer something in the violet line. But not my Tanzanite clone. That's too blue, she says.

Saturday was nonstop at my table. Tweak, regrind, adjust, smooth, regrind, regrind... All day. I wasn't ever bogged down, and I didn't bring any regrinding work home with me, but I had something to do the whole time, and so did Barbara, who managed everything at the table that didn't actually require my attention. If you stopped by, and several of you did, you will have met her. Know ye all by these presents that I could not have done it without her, any more than I could do it day to day here at home. It was she who ensured that I had a power bar and orange juice or Burpsi when I needed a lift.

There seem to be somewhat fewer people in Ohio than on the Eastern seaboard who know what specialty nibs are or why they might want one; far more than it was at Washington in August, the weekend was an opportunity to educate new people into the addiction. I'm here to tell you that it's really something to see someone's eyes light up after a sweep or two with a cursive italic!

Saturday evening a dozen or so of us went out to a Spanish restaurant, where the food was good and the supply of Sangria, once the servers twigged to the fact that that was what we all craved, was limitless. My paella could easily have fed three of me, and Barbara's arroz con pollo was big enough to feed half the table, had anyone else been sensible enough to refrain from ordering and just sit back waiting for the inevitable leftovers. Sunday was pretty much like Saturday, but I ended that day too whacked to go out for a gregarious dinner, so Barbara and I snuck off for Chinese, which is for us a "comfort food."

The part of going to a show that makes it all worthwhile for me is the many people I see. I love corresponding with my clients by email and, occasionally, telephone, but the opportunity to chat with people face to face is just too good to be missed. And oh, the faces. In no particular order, here are about half of those with whom I was able to chat a little:
Andy Gnoza (taking a break from the pursuit of yet another criminal)
Michael Fultz (interested, as always, in everything in eyesight)
Don Lavin (I'll be there in May, Don!)
Paul Erano (quiet, with that charming manner and the gleam in his eye)
Craig Bozorth (bubbling with stories from Miami)
Roger Cromwell (the Iron Man of pen repair)
Sam and Frank Fiorella (great pizza!)
Joel Hamilton and Sherrell Tyree (Parker and Sheaffer, all in the family)
Judd Perlson (I never knew he could calligraph!)
Frank Dubiel (hot on the trail of a rotting sac)
Chris Searcy (who really likes fine italics!)
Len Provisor (indefatigable and unbelievably helpful)
David Isaacson (whose Vac seminar was probably great -- I missed it!)
Giovanni Abrate (always a smile, and those cool FILCAO pens!)
David Broadwell (can't afford 'em, but WOW what gorgeous pens!)
Chuck Swisher and Chun Lee (how do they keep all those pens straight?)
Regina Martini (the Pelikan Lady -- a custom regrinding challenge there)
AnnMarie (she has a last name, I'm sure she does...)
John Mottishaw (a fave pen person, and other shared interests, too)
Rick Horne (freshly shorn, no longer shaggy as in his site's pic!)
Susan Wirth (more ink colors than Joseph's coat, and more fun, too)
Rick Propas (cooler in person than I could possibly have imagined!)
Jim Hickman (Newman Pens, easy on the eyes and superbly crafted)
Jimmie and Juanita Cockburn (charming and urbane, and pencils!)
Mike Weddle (his first show, but I'll wager not his last!)
Don Burns (reserved, but I think it's a pose. charming guy)
Andy Abrahamson (too excited to stay and chat for more than a minute)
Nelson Sparks (rendered just a little absent-minded by the spectacle)
Jim Barkley (nice Bexley proto in his pocket, and he promised us a Statehouse tour)
Howard and Mitchell Levy (president and vice president of Bexley)
Lisa Hanes (the Esterbrook Lady, one of my best friends anywhere)
Shaun Trumble (who really does write in lovely microscopic script)
Richard Jarvis (of penspiration.com, charming and always on)
Al Berhnardt (need a great pen case? knife case? watch case? I did.)

There were many more, there really were, but I've lost track of them in the sea of names, faces, and pens. I saw dozens of pens I wanted in the few brief seconds when Barbara unchained me FROM my chair, but it seems that I'd left the cash envelope back at my table...