Uncategorized

I Don’t Know What to Think

Uncategorized

You know, there are key-choppers and there are key-choppers.

The first kind is the Opportunist who chops the keys from antique typewriters and sells them willy-nilly on Ebay for jewelry making. The jewelry is a fad, and when the fad is tossed for some new project there may be, oh, five or six usable antique or vintage machines left in the world. These kind of key-choppers make me alternately sad and angry because there are some stunning, usable typewriters out there that don’t deserve a rude beheading. Besides, there are typewriter collectors and obsessors out here who feel gut-punched every time we see “Will cut off and send only the keys. Only $5 to ship.”

The second flavor of key-chopper is the one I can’t quite hate. These are the Artist Choppers. While they hack and hew and chop along with the best of the Opportunist Fad Choppers, the end product has depth and respect for the old machines. I still ache when considering the surgical procedures necessary to produce the art, but I do find it somehow a little less sadistic. A proper burial for a wrongful death.

There are those who ride the line by creating gorgeous, wearable art. But all typewriter key jewelry is not art. Sometimes an earring is just an earring.

Is it the difference between murder and euthanasia? Have I become an arts vs. crafts snob? Am I blinded by Beautiful Things? Would my typewriter morality be intact if machines were already functionally useless? I don’t know. I’m just not as angry with the Artist Choppers, even though the end result is the same – one less typewriter.

Jeremy E Mayer

Michael Demeng

Disclaimer: No typewriters were harmed or mutilated for this post.

John Carroll’s A Place to Stand project, tweaked for National Typewriter Day

Uncategorized

I heard back from John Carroll, our Kelly Writers Junior Fellow of A Place to Stand. His literary project is over, but John says he still mails out an occasional typewritten literary piece, postage willing. As a matter of fact, he’s mailing one off to me and I can’t wait.

Sadly, John had to use a Smith Corona Wordsmith (an electric!) to type his daily mailings during the project. I think he was worried about using an old machine and the inherent problems that sometimes surround the old beasts when typewriter repairmen are few and far between. Never mind. The project is done and a success – I think, John, it’s time you jumped into the fray with the rest of us and find an old typer to rediscover yourself with. You’ll be hooked.

After rolling John’s project around for a bit, the antique typewriter/writing angle was tweaked a bit and now it looks like there’s something definite in the works to celebrate National Typewriter Day. Visit the clickthing blog for exacting rules and regulations and for God’s sake sign up. This is no time to be a fraidy cat. The brave will inherit the earth and they’ll each have a portable typewriter under one arm. Mark my words.

For those of you out there following along, I received a call on Saturday from Acme – my Underwood Noiseless behemoth is ready! Ed tells me this, of course, on a Saturday when he’s closed and on a holiday weekend with an extra closed Monday, to boot. I swear to you I’m five years old and waiting for Christmas morning – agony. I’ll pick up Zelda on Tuesday and slam out a typecast first thing. There will be “after” pictures as well, just like a Jenny Craig commercial.

Fresh ribbon as quest, and some interesting finds

Uncategorized

Photobucket

This came to me – as many interesting things do – as an email attachment from a friend. I have no idea who to credit for this little ditty, but I’d cetainly like to. All I could find were dead links. I’d love to see cartoons #1 and #2.

Update: mpclemens whipped up a little search or two and was much more successful in finding the cartoonist, Tom Gauld. You can see the first two panels here and here. Marvelous work.

As I was bouncing around the internet the other day, I happened upon A Place to Stand – a Kelly Writers Junior Fellows (University of Pennsylvania) project that finished up last year in Philadelphia. Graduate John Carrol’s project involved reproducing one short piece of important literature on his typewriter every day, then mailing it out to a random recipient. Out of the Philadelphia phone book. Every day. The link gives a list of works he slammed out on the old typewriter, and challenges anyone reading the page to do the same: Type up a poem. Choose someone out of the phonebook. Mail it to them.

I can’t tell you how much I love that. The web page doesn’t discuss what typewriter(s) our boy John used, but I’ve emailed him and perhaps we’ll soon know. The announcement notes several of John’s inspirations for this project, most notably “Typewriter Man” by Ian Frazier. If you ignore every other link on this post – fine, but read Frazier’s article.

Fresh Ribbon…ruins a good manicure

Uncategorized

Before I begin complaining about changing the ribbon on my Lettera 32, let me share a little gorgeousness from uppercaseyyc’s incredible collection on Flickr. These old typewriter ribbon tins are individual masterpieces, but collectively they’re an absolute bouquet of vintage collectibles. Do take a look at her individual photographs of each tin – I dare you not to start a collection.

I’m going to have to look locally, though, because some of these badboys are going for upwards of twenty dollars apiece on Ebay. I can fill my house with with all manner of flea market/yard sale typewriters for that kind of cash. I’m not cheap, I’m just thrifty.

Now for the complaining. I just spent entirely too much time replacing a ribbon in an achingly sexy Olivetti Lettera 32 and it’s not an experience I want to repeat for a while. I assume it would be easier to replace a ribbon if I had, say, an operator’s manual with a step-by-inky-step guide, but I’m not sure. There are all manner of ribbon guides and things that screw on and off (right-y tight-y, left-y loose-y) as well as these THINGS that poke UP and are clearly meant to somehow KEEP the ribbon from TOUCHING THE PAPER.

Well, I eventually figured it out but not before completely ruining my manicure. I’ve changed ribbon in all my typewriters and have never had such a snafu. It was like something out of I Love Lucy. The thing is done now, and I’m feeling a little pleased with myself for figuring it out sans written directions. Not that it would have helped.

I’m buying a box of surgical gloves for next time. This re-manicure is going to cost me at least one Empress typewriter tin. Maybe two.

Acme and the Underwood Noiseless

Uncategorized

Ed Cordon is my hero. I took Zelda to Acme Business Machines yesterday after spending some time trying to make her at least somewhat presentable for company. I called before making the drive, wanting to give him a heads-up before sauntering in with such a typewriter, “Bring it on in,” he said, like he gets this all the time. Maybe he does. Twenty minutes later it was some trick getting her out of the backseat and up to the front door, where Ed was waiting with a big smile on his face.
I was half afraid he’d shake his head at the Underwood Noiseless, tell me he was sorry, send me back home. I don’t know why, because once he had that typewriter on the table he poked and prodded and plunked and such, declaring quickly that Zelda was absolutely repairable.
Then he turned her up to look underneath. Oh dear. The cobwebby nastiness of seventy neglectful years was under there and though I thought about turning her over during the hasty clean up, I never did. Obviously, twenty-two years of vigilant parenting has made me feel responsible for such things and I need to get over it.
Mr. Cordon didn’t seem to care one bit. He did say it would take a little time to get old Zelda up to snuff.
He talked a bit about the typewriter repairs and sales he’s had lately, and I want to thank every single one of you who’ve somehow made your way to North Little Rock to give this man your business. He’s not sure how much longer he can keep the store going, he said, because business is generally thin. He only looked frustrated for a minute or two, though, before he went back to testing and fiddling with my old Underwood. Clearly, he loves the work.
Ed doesn’t have a website or email address, so I’m going to give you the info here again. Give him a call, stop by, write him a letter on one of your old typers. Let him know you’re out there and when you can, bring him a little something to work his magic on.
Acme Business Machines, Inc.
Ed Cordon
5308 MacArthur Drive, Suite A
North Little Rock, AR 72118
(501) 753-7375

The Monster – My New Underwood Noiseless

Uncategorized
Feast your eyes. This was a gift today from a colleague who knew I’d love such an animal.

It’s unquestionably the most filthy typewriter I’ve ever seen up close, and certainly the heaviest one I’ve ever lugged into the house.

I made it as far as the kitchen table. That dangling piece of ribbony thread on the side is ( I assume) something important in advancing the carriage. This is probably why the spacebar doesn’t respond. I can tell it wants to, though.

The keys are stiff and slow to return, but the carriage moves back and forth smoothly. Looks like I’ll be winding ribbon by hand if I can get this machine to work.

The cobwebs are a bonus, I think, as most descriptions I can find online of the Underwood Noiseless fail to mention them.

There she is and I’m a little in awe of her. Here’s the plan: Since I’m completely mechanically stupid, I’ll haul this down to Acme Business Machines in North Little Rock tomorrow and see what my friends say. I doubt anyone there would be mean enough to, for example, suggest I sink it in the Arkansas River on my way home or anything. At least I hope not.

I’m still looking for the serial number, which may be hidden in plain sight by the dust and grime of seventy or so years. Everytime I go into the kitchen to look her over, I love the machine more. Thank you, Steve. This makes me very, very happy.

1959 College Typewriting textbook

Uncategorized

Photobucket
Photobucket
Photobucket

I found this in College Typewriting, Complete Course, 6th edition, by Lessenberry and Wanous. It’s dated 1959 and is just filled to overflowing with stupefying typewriter drills. I did note, however, that the Miss Harriet L. Brock of this particular exercise, had to give quite a bit of information in her application letter and data sheet. While I was busy being perfectly horrified by that data sheet, I almost missed the most important information entirely.

It seems the 5′ 4″, 110-pound, unmarried Miss Brock had three years of an Economics degree from Columbia behind her before asking for this secretarial position. Columbia. University.

By my calculation, Miss Brock would be 72 years-old right now. I wonder which way she’d vote in the upcoming election . . .