Sometimes I ask myself – do I live here? In this house?
(This would be during one of my not-infrequent David-Byrne-freak-out-type moments.)
I must live here, I think.
But how do I know? I mean, how do I know for certain?
Well, is there a pencil sharpener in the basement?
Okay, good. I do live here.
I must live here.
I sharpen pencils here.
Do I sharpen many? No. Not at all. But do I appreciate the great variety of hole sizes that come standard on my attached-to-the-wall pencil sharpener? Yes. Yes I do. I can sharpen those big, fat novelty pencils with the bing-bongy pompom creatures on top, or I can sharpen a basic #2 pencil as I see fit. But the sharpening can be done in the safety and comfort of my own home. As I have done since I can remember. As I will do far into the future until they stop making pencils altogether and there are no more to sharpen at all.
POSTSCRIPT: My pencil sharpener (pictured above) is enjoying a little sabbatical upstairs in the kitchen as we decide where to relocate it after taking out a wall in our basement. The wall that the pencil sharpener had previously been attached to.
I hope the sharpener will be happy with the new location we choose for it. But if not, it should read this and just be very happy indeed to still be hanging around this house being used and loved instead of being sold on eBay like the collector’s item it has become.