A new discovery in the world of staples

I received some nice presents for Christmas. Mind you, Greg and I don’t go overboard with the gift-giving, as we have so much stuff already. Where we do go overboard is in the food-eating, but that’s another story.

 

One of my favourite presents this year — until extremely recent developments — was a stapler. It’s a Swingline with a rather aerodynamic profile and a nice heft. Greg gave it to me because he thought I might like one of my own. Before I clarified this with him, I thought it was so I would not keep using his.




And it even has a low staple indicator.
 

My new office friend takes regular-sized staples.  This fact was essential, both to my stapling habits and to writing this blog, until only a few moments ago when I made a stunning discovery about my existing stapler. As a result, I have had to change the whole tenor of this blog, as you shall see ...

Yes, I still have my first and (up to now) only stapler. Greg said I must be one of the few people in the world who remembers getting their first stapler.

It is a small Apsco which I bought in the 1960s at the Oxford Book Store located in Wellington Square before Wellington Square was tarted up and renamed Galleria, in the forlorn hope that it would be an upscale shopping mecca. However, Galleria now contains an insurance company, a Rainbow Cinema, a few dollar stores and an annex for the local community college with an extensive food court. But that is beside the point now, as any planned analogy with my old stapler no longer holds true (Writing is a difficult art).

 

My  Apsco reminds me of a cricket - very eager.

 

My little orange stapler, by contrast is still relatively perky. It is in more or less in working order although it doesn’t stay closed. Made by a company called Isabergs Verkstads‏ located in Hestra, Sweden (which I shall have to find on the map), it is a model A 10.  According to the imprint on the finger rest, Apsco in “Toronto Ont. Can.” distributed it here. It could continue to function were it not for the fact that no one makes staples for it anymore. Or so I thought until, after squinting to see where it was made, I came across these stunning words along the staple-holder part: “loads standard staples.”

What a surprise that was! Years ago in the mid-90s when it was getting low on staples, I went back to the Oxford Book store (at its Richmond St. location as the Wellington Square/Galleria incarnation had bitten the dust) to find more. I was told there were none for such a tiny stapler. Both the clerk and I had these wee staplers, and together we bemoaned the apparent lack of the wherewithal to continue their useful existence.

Here the plot thickens – so much so that you might want to go get lunch, watch a re-run of As the World Turns or listen to somebody boring saying something pointless about the fiscal cliff.

Still with me? Then move the clock forward 10 or 12 years and find me at the check-out counter of the Parkhill Home Hardware store (before it also closed). Behold boxes,  each containing 5,000 standard-sized staples at the  unbelievable price of only one dollar. I bought three. 15,000 staples and only one stapler in which to use them … until today. With trembling hands I put those standard staples into my little Apsco. They fitted. I tested them on a sheet of paper. They work!

Suddenly we became a three-stapler family:

Greg's is an Ofrex Anglia II made in Great Britain.

 

I am not going to take the new stapler back, for it promises to staple up to 20 sheets. I don’t want to overtax my little Apsco; I’ll use it for up to five.

What has this episode taught me? The world is full of surprises. One should never jump to conclusions. Nostalgia is a good thing especially if it preserves what only appeared to be a useless little item.

Happy 2013!