It definitely qualifies as a good product by the criteria in my Good Products, Bad Products book. It is reasonably priced, seems to be highly reliable and long lived, since I have owned it many years and it has never failed me, bangs staples home with a vengeance, fits me very well,, is extremely well made, and is highly thought of in the culture of amateur, but capable builders and repair and maintenance people (of which I am a member). Although I am not aware that it is the Museum of Modern art in New York, it is a clean and functional design, and its unusually bright plating allows it to be easily found if its owner has a shop in which tools hang on nails, but usually do not return to the nails which they have previously occupied (me again). The stapler is easily understood, simple to load and use (no video or confusing manual required), mechanically elegant, and gentle on the environment.
And I have come to love it. I have an open barn, which as well as holding a great deal of wonderful objects my wife categorizes as junk, also contains a sprinkling of restored vehicles and other equipment and a few motorcycles and go-karts. It seems to be very attractive to owls, especially in the rainy season. I like owls, and they are nice to have in barns because rats and mice, who like to eat and use as nest materials such things as wiring harness insulation and seat cushions, stay away.. But owls are large animals, and they seem to have made the roof trusses in my barn into the official owl rest-room in the area.
Owl poop is seriously awful, since it is sticks to everything, seems to be impervious to water and most common solvents, and when finally removed, takes a bit of paint with it. So I decided to interfere with their pleasure by making it more difficult to roost on the truss members. The barn is 20 feet high, but I have a friend who owns a large forklift that is capable of reaching a 15 foot height, so I spent a few hours happily standing in a fruit box on the forks stapling bird netting to the appropriate truss members while he whirled me around the barn. It was really fun. The weather was perfect, the ride was exhilarating, and my stapler gave me the power to put the netting exactly where I wanted to. I don’t know if I have won the battle, because owls are indeed very wise, but I wouldn’t mind at all if I had to do more of the same. Tools are to extend the capability of your body, and the stapler certainly did (of course the fork lift did also). I would have looked pretty foolish trying to handle heavy sheets of netting 15 feet in the air while working a hammer or screw driver with one hand and holding nails or screws with the other.
But upon writing this post, I realize am also very fond of my Swingline model 747 desk stapler in this photo. I have also had it for many years, initially acquiring it for no cost after it was unclaimed after a large office move. It too is reliable, long-lived, elegant in operation, humble but pleasing in appearance, easy to operate, and gentle on the environment. And it always responds and never argues with me. In fact looking at this picture makes me realize that my desk is mostly covered by digital things that are always requiring and often frustrating. The stapler simply sits there and responds beautifully to having paper stuffed into its mouth and being hit on the head. I probably sometimes take out my frustration with my electronic equipment by hitting my stapler much harder than is needed, even though it is a most faithful servant.
And looking at the photograph, I also notice a few paper clips on my desk—even simpler classic products that do their jobs beautifully. And they are also useful for many other tasks, from cleaning fingernails to opening the spouts of old glue bottles.