Saga of a Doorknob

Yep, a doorknob.

When I was a child and people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, my answer was: a doorknob.

That’s right. A doorknob.

It’s no surprise that me saying I wanted to be a doorknob worried my parents

However, it’s important to note that I had given this matter a great thought. It’s true that I wanted to be something that few, if any, people had thought about being. But I also wanted to be something meaningful. I thought that doorknobs provide entry into other rooms, other places, other worlds! And I wanted to be one of those things (a doorknob)  that did that.

So, I decided to see what Copilot (AI) has to say about my childhood predilection, and I was delighted with the answer.

I wrote:

What if a child wants to be a doorknob when they grow up?

Here is the AI response to my question:

That’s delightfully imaginative—and honestly, kind of brilliant. If a child says they want to be a doorknob when they grow up, it’s not about becoming a literal piece of hardware. It’s a window into their creativity, curiosity, or maybe even their sense of humor.

Here’s how you could interpret it:

  • 🌀 Symbolic thinking: Maybe they see the doorknob as something important—something that opens doors, connects spaces, or helps people move forward. That’s poetic!
  • 😂 Playful absurdity: Kids often say things to be silly or get a reaction. It could be their way of exploring language and logic.
  • 🧠 Exploring identity: They might be testing boundaries—what does it mean to “be” something? Can objects have roles like people do?
  • 🎨 Creative expression: This could be the start of a wild story, a drawing, or a game. Maybe they’re imagining a world where doorknobs have personalities and adventures.

Instead of correcting them, it’s a great moment to ask, “What kind of doorknob would you be?” You might get a story about a golden doorknob on a castle, or one that tells jokes every time someone turns it.

Want help turning that idea into a short story or a comic?

Now, I did not respond to the query to move on to a creative tract produced by AI – I’ll leave that to my own creative juices at another time in the future

The Perfect Pen, Part 2 (3 or 4?)

Many moons ago, I wrote about my rabid quest to find the perfect pen. Not a surprising thing for a writer who grew up from a kid who luxuriated in books, notepads, and all things literary and written. Would you believe I still have 6 books from my 6th grade Scholastic Books summer reading list? I remember my anticipation of the arrival of my order, and how I would immediately set about smelling the pages to determine which book I would read first.

Yes, I still smell books, and am drawn to the thicker and smellier ones! And I write every day in my journal, and read, usually 2 or three books at a time. I have a house full of books (a bitch to dust), some of which I even use as side tables in my living room.

Back to pens. The quest has ended! Can you believe it?

First, about the future of pens. It is numbered. And this I lament for all the kids who will never have the luxury of feeling a pen on paper, smelling its ink, and trying to always improve their handwriting. (Handwriting? What’s that you say?) The world of AI and smart devices is, and probably mostly has, replaced the writing tools I grew up with. I feel truly sorry for them.

For me? Pens will never go away. Nor will my notepads or my paper books (Red faced and truth be told, I do succumb to reading on my Kindle when I’m on my elliptical machine).

And now, I feel like I need a drum-roll here: After years of searching, and buying fountain pens, gel pens, roller balls, markers, and even pencils, I have come back to the pen that gave me thrills and comfort when I was a grammar school kid: The BIC Crystal stick pen! How ironic is that?