This week’s post is about my experience with the Lamy 2000. It is my most recent fountain pen acquisition from several months ago as a graduation present. Since then it has been constantly inked and has become the pen which I use the most. Much of the novel I am currently writing has been written with this pen. It is a standard makrolon model with a medium nib. Like the vintage Conklin Nozac from last week, it is a piston filler. Since the pen was commemorating my graduation with a master’s degree, it was engraved with my name as it appears in my thesis and on my diploma—Jeffrey R. Nau.

      Although this is technically my second blog post, I am considering it my first real one. The first one was more like a Forward or Introduction to the main content.
     So, as my first (really second) post, I decided to start with something about the fountain pen shown on my homepage. (It’s okay if you didn’t even realize there was an image there with a fountain pen. Go look if you want but come right back here.)
     This fountain pen is one I got from my grandfather. He found it in his desk one day and gave it to me. It turned out to be one of the fountain pen models I had hoped to someday add to my collection. The fountain pen is a Conklin Nozac. A vintage one from the 1930s.

     The pen is made from green celluloid in a faceted shape. Between the green stipes are translucent stripes, although they are difficult to see without holding the pen up to the light. The nib is 14k gold which is ground a little on the stub side and has a small amount of flex to it. It was made in Toledo, Ohio which I like as it is my home state (fun fact: Toledo is also the home of Klinger in M*A*S*H).
     What I especially like about this pen, aside from the striped celluloid, is the filling system. Unlike most American-made fountain pens of its time, the Conklin Nozac had a piston filling system. Hence its name, for the lack of the then-common rubber sac in pens that held ink. Nozac = no sac. The pen also features a “word gauge” on the barrel. It is meant to indicate how many more words I can write. I tend to use it to see how many words of a chapter I have written.
     Like many vintage fountain pens, the pen was covered in dry ink. I enjoy restoring the vintage fountain pens I collect, so I took it apart and cleaned it. I was surprised to find the cork used as the piston seal was intact. Even more surprising (to me anyways) was that I managed to bring the cork seal back into working condition without having to replace the cork like I was prepared to do. This fountain pen is 80-something years old. It still works almost as if it were new.