Albuqwerty Type Writer Society Meeting

You can't call these meeting minutes. More like rambling, random typings. Scraps salvaged from the aether, as Kevin and I, the two founding (and thus far only) members of the Albuqwerty Type Writer Society have spent a recent evening together on the front porch of his Neo-Victorian mansion, nestled in the north Rio Grande valley of Albuquerque; typewriters, scotch and cigars at hand as we discuss typewriters and whatever else comes to mind.

We have an interesting relationship. Both our wives have the same first name. We both like antique mechanical objects, especially typewriters; although Kevin also has considerable experience with British motor cars. We like geeking-out on these things, while at the same time we seem to avoid controversial topics such as politics, sports and religion. Perhaps typewriters are our religion? Well, I think we both have enough experience with friendships to know there's a certain line you don't want to cross, for the sake of the friendship.

We've met like this on a number of occasions, and it usually follows a similar pattern. We chit-chat, we break out a typewriter or three, we discuss issues we're having, or acquiring new ribbons, or restoring platens - or a plethora of related topics. Then the drink and cigars follow, with more of the same, into the wee hours of the morning. We'll both be in conversation, typewriters at the ready. One of us will be talking intently, the other listening, when suddenly the listener will attack the keyboard and bash out some crucial thought worthy of preservation. It's usually something random, but deemed important enough at the time to document. All the while listening to the other talk. And then the roles will reverse.

We will, over time, swap machines, trying out this one then that one, giving our opinion as to its feel and action. Our typed comments will become a mixture of both our thoughts, an amalgam.

One of these recent evenings we starting talking about forming a local organization dedicated to typewriters. We eventually came up with this name, and Kevin's working on a logo. It's not a formal organization, with Robert's Rule of Order and all that falderal. Just a name to put upon a local community of adepts. Well, I use the term "community" loosely, since thus far there's only us two. But perhaps we will formalize the thing and publicize it, seeking more members. But thus far it's a club of two. Revolutions have been started with less.

The typing shown above is but one example from our most recent meeting. I'd been talking to Kevin about the old grocery store in our neighborhood we call "Creepy Albertsons" (to distinguish it from the newer Albertsons) and the entertainment I derive from late-night visits. He was skilled enough to capture some of the details of the conversation.

Kevin had been playing 78s on his Zenith phonograph when he played Dinah Shore then Doris Day records back-to-back. It was hard to distinguish their voices after all these years.

Then we talked about what key typewriter bells might be tuned to; and if one should use a digital guitar tuner to determine each one's key.

These are the kinds of things that result from our meetings. Nothing earth-shattering. No solutions for world hunger or the ecology. Just good times spent together bonding over common interests.

In the subsequent video I made about our gathering (embedded link below) I discussed the importance of community to our passion with typewriters. Iron sharpens iron, so goes the old saw. Each person brings something new to the discussion, a unique perspective or skill. We all learn from each other. And it's wonderful to fellowship with like-minded individuals.

I'd encourage you, if you're a typewriter aficionado, to seek out others in your local area. Create a club or loose-knit community. Organize Type-Ins. Make you voices (and type bars) heard.

Here's the video mentioned above: