Reactivating the Activator

If this wasn't intended as a gift (and if my wife didn't object) I might keep it. No, they're not fancy or elegant, nor do they exude solidity, but they simply work well. Exemplars of practicality. I hope its recipient enjoys it.

Wards Signature 300

The machine also came with this padded carrying case, the first I've seen for a Brother machine.




Post-Script: This machine also came with two operation manuals, one for the model 300 and the other for a model 511.



Here's a video about this machine:



Here are several photos I took near Central Ave. in ABQ during my walk.

Word-Whittling

Post-Script: Word-whittled on the front porch, on a cold but sunny day, with the little Brother Webster XL-747. An assemblage of individual keystroke experiences piling up at my feet, along with cigar ash.

This piece was transcribed (i.e. retyped) via SCM Galaxie Twelve. Transcribing isn't writing. It's mechanical. Errors will be made. Errors were made, evidenced by subtle but obvious white correction tape markings on the yellow-green paper. I obviously need more meditative word-whittling practice.

Top photo inspired by artist and writer Austin Kleon.

Casey Rocks the Brother ML100

Y'all probably know this feller by the name of Casey Neistat. YouTube blogger. Co-star of MTV's The Neistat Brothers series. Skateboarder. Drone flier. Father. Husband. New Yorker. A self-made person. He's doing well enough that he probably doesn't need me promoting his videos. But I've linked his Valentine's Day video above, a love-letter to his wife Candice, because it was sweet. And it prominently featured a Brother ML100 electric typewriter.

I liked the sound of the staccato rhythm of his electric Brother through out the video. And as a typewriter collector, I also like the idea that, for Casey, he's not a fetishist or collector. For him, it appears that an electric typewriter is just a practical tool. Like all the other practical tools that adorn the walls of his studio. That's cool, and refreshing. If I wasn't such a typewriter nerd and collector, and didn't like manual typewriters so much, I too might be happy with just one machine, a modern-day electric daisywheel "wedge".

I don't want to over-analyse Casey's video too much, but I liked how the typewriter, a not-nearly-as-glamorous-machine-as-a-black-and-chrome-manual-from-the-1930s, was the perfect tool for writing a love letter, which he then folded and placed in an envelop. He could have - if he had a printer - word process the crap out of a love letter. Or pen it by hand with quill and bottled ink. Unless his penmanship, like mine, is sorely lacking. Typewriters were made for people like us.

Casey's video, I'm certain, will garner millions of views. And those millions of people will be witness to the eminent practicality, in 2018, of a typewriter in one's home, office or studio, a tool ready to do the work of printing directly to paper a brief document, like a love letter.

Type-A-Sketch

Post-Script: See Typewriter Video Series Episode 56 for more on using the manual typewriter as a mechanical drafting machine.

Here's the line maze I drew today, using the Facit 1620 and Bic Cristal blue medium point pen:


As is the case with all of my so-called "line mazes," you follow the line itself, rather than the space between the lines. Conventional mazes use the space between lines as the passageway, with the lines to either side representing the walls of the maze. My line mazes are more like 3D routing diagrams. The lines cross over one another and don't make a turn until you get to an elbow (or corner); lines only connect to one another at a "node." There's only one node in this maze, the bold dot where four lines converge.

You might notice that I had to hand-draw the node dot; I tried typing an asterisk for the node, but the alignment between the typed characters and the pen holes in the paper guide of my Facit 1620 are not exact.

This was more of a test drawing than a really challenging maze. I find using a typewriter as a form of mechanical drafting machine is rather fun. The horizontal spacing of the vertical lines is governed by the character spacing as defined by the escapement mechanism; while the vertical spacing of the horizontal lines is governed by the ratcheting of the line advance mechanism. Thus, the smallest resolution you can draw - the closest the lines can get to each other - is limited by this mechanical, orthographic grid system of the typewriter's mechanism.

You can move the drawing point in any of four directions. Horizontal movements are done by either the space bar, the backspace key or manual movement of the carriage via the carriage release lever. It's best to draw from left to right (move the carriage from right to left), because backspacing causes the carriage to overshoot the end point, due to the nature of the escapement mechanism. Similarly, I find it better to draw vertical lines from bottom to top, since you can see more easily the drawing and where you need to stop.

If your typewriter has more than one notch or hole for a pen in the paper guide, it's best to choose one and stick with it, since the two holes or notches might not be exactly aligned to the grid system of the mechanism, or each other.

I used a ballpoint pen for these drawings, but another type of technical drawing pen would be preferred. As well as better quality paper than the newsprint-quality teletype paper roll I was using.

If you have a wide-carriage machine, this would be ideal for drawing landscape-oriented illustrations on full-sized paper.

Bonus: Here's a line-maze version of a labyrinth, hand-drawn. It could have benefited from the orthographic alignment of the Type-A-Sketch, so as to make the lines much straighter. Being a labyrinth instead of a maze, it only has one passage, so you can't get lost. Start at either end. As with all line routing networks, the lines cross over one another without connecting. Lines go straight until they bend at an elbow. I rather enjoyed coloring the various cells in. My personal rule is two adjoining cells can't have the same color; similar colors can only touch at their corners. Oh, the title of this piece is "Centripetal Labyrinth with Hysteresis, 1.0." Don't ask me why. I think it has something to do with the way the lines converge on, then fly away from, the center point, like a comet in a highly elliptical orbit. As with all "art-speak," it only really matters to the artist, and the academic community. In this case, there's only me, since no one would seriously consider this to be "art."



Typecast via Brother Charger 11, lap-typing in the front courtyard on a cold day.

Night Sky Musings

Post-Script: I've had an on-again, off-again relationship with amateur astronomy for the last three or more decades. I currently have a short focal length dobsonian-style reflector and two binoculars, the 7-by-50 and a monster-sized 25-by-100 that requires a mount just to use it, weighing in at around 11 pounds. By far the most enjoyable viewing I've had is reclining in the comfort of a lawn chair on a warm summer evening with a pair of stabilized binoculars at hand. Being able to use both eyes, in such a relaxed posture, brings much joy.



Photo made at the Andersen Abruzzo Albuquerque International Balloon Museum. Typecast via Brother Charger 11 (photo pending).

A Lizard on a Warm Rock

Post-Script: I love these kinds of blog articles, however crude or unpolished they might seem. The idea of being able to spontaneously sit down with a typewriter on your lap and bash out a thought or two with no ulterior motive or agenda is a compelling reason for blogging, like sitting down with a friend for no reason whatsoever except to spend time in idle chitchat. Separated by the miles via the interwebz, this is our version of spending time together. I enjoy reading others' blogs, and try to comment as much as I can.

I know many people find it difficult to continue blogging, with the busyness of life getting in the way. Part of this is a misconception, that we have to compose carefully polished prose, edited and revised multiple times before it can be seen by the public. Ideally that would be true, but sometimes time is a luxury, and yet to put blogging in some kind of priority in our lives means that people get to see us in all our private messiness; warts, typos, misspellings and all. As is fitting with friends.

Photo via Apple iPod Touch. Typecast via Brother-made Webster XL-747.

Selfie Santa

Post-Script: In comparing fountain pens (specifically bottle-filled) and mechanical pencils with cartridge pens (like ballpoints, rollerballs and gel), I'm also reminded of the business model embodied by instant film, inkjet printer and shaving cartridges, where the money is made in refills, and also ties the consumer into a dependency upon a manufacturer's supply chain. I like the idea of a bottle of ink, that can be appropriated from most any supplier, lasting a great long while and able to work in most any fountain pen with suitable converter. Similarly with mechanical pencil refills. I was just at my local office supply retailer yesterday to buy more leads for the Monteverde brass pencil, and ended up with a small package comprising only five refill containers, each with 15 leads apiece, that's equivalent to, say, 75 woodcase pencils. And they had much larger packs of refills. I felt almost guilty for even considering purchasing a larger quantity, not knowing if I'd even still be alive by the time they ran out.

I like this idea of a pencil or pen being a tool that can last decades, with readily available refills.

Typecast via Webster XL-747. In case you haven't seen it, episode 49 of the Typewriter Video Series starred this pretty blue portable. In the video, I made mention of the end-of-line bell, that on this machine sounded more like a clunk than a chime. This morning I took the bottom of the machine off to inspect the bell mechanism. I'd expected an off-center mounting screw on the bell itself, like on many American-made machines, where the screw can be loosened and the bell's position readjusted. Not so on this Japanese-designed machine, where the linkages operating the bell, and the bell itself, are permanently mounted to a common bracket with no adjustment screws available. It turned out that the problem was the bell clapper arm was resting against the bell itself while at rest, such that when it was made to strike the bell it wouldn't let the bell freely resonate. I ended up "reforming" (i.e. bending) a small bracket on the other end of that clapper arm, such that while at rest the clapper is just shy of touching the bell. Now it makes a bright yet dainty chime at end-of-line.

I enjoyed using this machine for today's typecast. Yes, it has a heavier feel to the keys than some other portables. But the length of the key stroke is short, and the action snappy, making for a pleasing experience. Best of all is its reliability, and easy access to the escapement mechanism underneath, if need be; which I haven't needed.

The Blue Mechanical AI

Help! I am being held captive by a blue mechanical AI. No, it's not some advanced artificial intelligence of the kind being developed by leading tech industry titans, but was something evidently created decades earlier, and made of all mechanical parts, like some steampunk automaton.

I know what you're thinking, that there's not enough complexity in a typewriter to account for its abilities I've observed this afternoon, while engaged in an extended typing session with the roll of teletype paper threaded up, to keep me chained to my chair, banging the keys and slinging the carriage back, a roll of intelligent prose (or nearly so) falling back behind onto the floor. But I have no better explanation to offer.

This Brother-made Webster XL-747 has even offered me a meaning to its name: Writing Enjoyment By Simply Typing Endless Randomness. At least, that's what came out on the paper roll. Who am I to argue?




Now, there's something else it revealed to me: a way to organize these diverse scrolls of random writing by using the margin release button and red ribbon to make marginal notes along the lefthand edge, so that once filed away I can still easily locate individual topics.

I've been using Smitty, the Smith-Corona Silent Super, for a few weeks and, while it has a softer touch than this Brother, I've found I can type at least as fast, maybe faster. Yes, the touch of the keys is heavier, and it's carriage shift, but with my weird typing technique and my right elbow supported on the armchair I can accurately hit the keys harder, with great accuracy.

This little blue AI also is smaller, lighter, has the repeat spacer and a nice carrying case. This is one of those things about typewriter collecting that I hoped to achieve, to narrow down the collection to just those machines I really enjoy using. While at the Phoenix Type-In last month I sold both Olivetti Lettera 22s, which were both similar enough to this Brother in size and color but weren't as pleasing to use. I think I made a good choice, as this machine has essentially no mechanical issues whatsoever. It's a joy to type with despite its heavier touch because I don't have to pause for corrections like with other, more trouble-prone typers.

Now that this blue AI has used me for its own purposes of announcing itself to the world, I'm hoping it will have the kindness to permit me a good nights sleep before I return to work early tomorrow morning. But they're sneaky, these AIs are, so I must be on my toes.

My Brother's Keeper

Here's part 3 of the Typewriter Video Series:



Post-Script: I had a blast doing yesterday's production, everything seemed to go very smoothly.

It's always interesting to get a glimpse of what happens behind-the-scenes with video production. I have two lapel mics, one being an older model, purchased years ago from Radio Shack, while the newer one has much better audio quality but also has a 16 foot wire, which I struggle with keeping properly stowed away in my jacket or pants pocket. The older mic is only monaural, and I had recently acquired a mono to stereo adapter, in the hopes of using it for this project, but with this adapter in place it doesn't seat fully into the mic jack of audio recorder, and as a result makes an intermittent buzzing sound. So I'm relegated to using the newer mic with longer wire. Both mics are powered by small "watch" batteries, and I have spares on hand, should they be needed.

As usual, I love to talk, and thus the first cut of this production went well over 16 minutes in length, too long for You Tube, so more cutting and trimming was required. But I think the end result was better for it. Just like as in writing, cutting down is essential for good results.
Getting back to the main subject of this blog article, dampening the sound of the Brother, I wonder why I never thought of tracking down this irritating sound before, because the addition of those two little pieces of black foam certainly makes this machine sound much better. It's indeed funny how the typewriter over the decades has experienced a usage change. In their heyday perhaps no one would have thought much about the peculiarities of the sounds made by specific models, since all typewriters are essentially noise-makers; but now that they've been rediscovered and repurposed into more recreational writing machines, their aesthetics become more evident.

Photos via Fujifilm X10. Typecast via Brother-made Webster XL-747.

If you're interested, here's the type of adhesive craft foam I used:

Typewriter Video Series Intro

Post-Script: This video production went rather smoothly. I was especially pleased with the audio, using the digital field recorder and lavaliere microphone. And the manual focus film-camera lens renders very nicely, though it's not quite as sharp as the Lumix digitally-corrected lenses.

Some of my videos have gone upwards of 15 minutes in length. This one was just a tad under nine, and therefore didn't take nearly as long to upload to You Tube. I also feel that having these slightly shorter videos makes them more watchable.

I have not yet decided on the content of the next video in the series, but most likely I'll be showing the major features of manual typewriters, and thus I'll probably be doing close-ups of a number of machines from my collection. The idea will be to help show the major differences between portables and mid-sized machines, so a potential buyer can decide for themselves what category of machine to go hunting for, and what features may or may not be important. It's also a good time to introduce to the neophyte the major differences in operation between manual typewriters and computer word processors. For us oldsters these concepts are virtually back-of-the-hand familiar, but for many younger people they might be altogether entirely foreign.

This raises the point that I don't have a full-sized upright machine in my collection, nor anything older than the Corona 4, and so I won't be able to demonstrate their features; nor do I have access to exotic machines like Olivers and such. But I think I have enough of a selection to familiarize the neophyte in what he or she might find commonly available at their local thrift or charity shops. Once they get more familiar with the world of typewriters they can discover for themselves the exotics and collectibles, if that be their forte.

I remember when I first acquired the Brother/Webster XL-747, used in this video and typecast, and how I fussed over it for several weeks, addressing little issues and slowly improving its performance. Taking it down from the closet shelf after several months of disuse, I was pleased with the way in which it performs, as compared to the Corona 4; which itself is not that bad. This serves as reinforcement to my hopes that it was a valuable addition to my collection; and you can't beat its diminutive size and snazzy color; and the carrying case is in much better condition than any Lettera 22 I've ever owned, making its portability entirely practical.

Did you notice how my outfit and the typewriter were entirely color coordinated? Yes, that was entirely by accident, I can assure you.