Kissing Cousins or Typer Twins?

Post-Script: I started this twin typer video on Sunday but was interrupted by Labor Day festivities; then had to do some maintenance on my main evaporative cooler unit (replacing the fan bushings and motor). It started out with me breaking out the 1973 Mercury that's been in my collection since the mid-aughts - my "alpha" machine, the first one I can with certainty claim to have acquired because I was getting the typewriter bug and wanted a small portable; which I haven't used very much in the last few years and it needed more attention than I'd realized. I ended up doing a thorough cleaning and degreasing on it, in the process of making the video.

Naturally, a comparison between both machines was in order. The 1971 model, new to me, had a bit easier touch; but now the other one feels better after the attention it's received.

These machines were designed the way they were designed. You shouldn't expect them to have the touch of a different, lighter, machine. But the trick I did to the touch adjustment, disconnecting the spring that attaches to the universal bar, did affect a noticeable change. Which reminds me that my Brother Charger 11, lacking a touch adjustment, always felt a bit lighter in touch than the Brother-made Webster XL747 that has a touch adjustment; perhaps it's due to this same issue, that at the lightest setting the touch system always gives more tension to the universal bar than without. I'll use both of these Mercs for a time and see if I'm happy with them this way.

Since I now have these two nearly identical machines, I figured some experimentation was in order. The natural thing would be to compare sound-deadening methods. There has been some recent talk on the Facebook Antique Typewriter Group about using various materials in the bottom of the machine to absorb sound and prevent it from reverberating upward. With the 1973 model I used a terrycloth shop rag, cut to size and taped along its edges to the inside of the bottom panel using gaffers tape. Compared to the unaltered 1971 model I could notice a real difference, more in the muting of the bright metallic sounds, rather than an overall lowering of the volume. Then I used a sheet of craft felt in the bottom of the 1971 model and it seems to have about the same degree of sound deadening. Nothing dramatic, but a real improvement. Since this is an ongoing experiment and easily reversible, I can always take these out and try different materials in the future.

This is the essential tradeoff when you like ultra-portable machines: you have to be willing to accept less than ideal mechanics for lightweight and small. Hence the tinkering with trying to gain back something in the way of better touch and sound. But there's always the fact that these small machines are easy to grab and bang out a quick note on, like the other night when I typed this on the back of an Albertsons grocery store receipt:



This is getting to be a habit, saving up 3-1/8" wide thermal-printed store receipts that are blank on the reverse side. Free typing paper, for short ditties or poems. Nothing profound or earth shattering, but highly convenient, promoting that stream-of-consciousness creativity that can, on occasion, produce surprising results.

Here's episode 130 of the Typewriter Video Series, on these two siblings.

Impromptu Birthday Bash Type-In

Post-Script: The niece's husband tried his hand at the little Olympia SF, and he blazed away using the middle finger of each hand. It turns out his first book was written, years ago, on a larger Olympia, using the same typing style.

He asked her why a typewriter, isn't a computer more efficient. Her answer was something along the lines of wanting to get into typing again; she also has a desire to do some serious writing, and feels a typewriter would suit her best, as least in the initial phases.

They both live an hour up the highway in Santa Fe; I told her in my letter that should she need ribbons or other assistance, just call.

I think she made the right choice of the SM9 as a serious writing tool. Nothing wrong with the Smith-Coronas, except they're older, have seen a harder life.



I also had her try Adobe Rose, the Royal QDL, seen above next to the Brother Charger 11, which still had its lid attached, one of her other choices. Unless portability were her main concern, she was wise to steer clear of the Brother, as it's not nearly as easy to type on.

She made some interesting observations about the feel of the keyboards of these various machines. The spacing of the keys, and slope of the keyboards, has a lot to do with typing comfort, as she wisely discerned; to her, the SM9 felt easier than the Hermes 3000.



Above is the 1930 Underwood Portable with a roll of paper; we used it during the birthday party for people to type comments upon. Always a great machine to have handy.



This morning I stopped in at Rust is Gold, a new coffee shop + artists collective, on Eubank near Constitution, with the Olympia SF, for some blog writing and coffee slurping. Fun was had, and I struck up a conversation with a fellow patron who was interested in the typewriter. I didn't have business cards with me, so typed him one on a scrap of paper.

Report from Rio Grande Insurgency Contingent

The Proof is in the Pudding

Post-Script: After we arrived back home from last week's vacation to Jerome, Arizona, the first typewriter I used was the lovely Corona Standard. Not only is it a true "looker," but its typing feel is wonderful. It's probably the one machine in my collection that has it all; aside from not being a true ultra-portable. But then I set this Olympia SF on my lap and began some random typing, and really enjoyed its touch, too. Yes, it does have that one little issue with the line advance, but my temporary solution of back-rolling the platen one click after a conventional carriage return seems to make it a practical writing tool.

Comparing the Olympia with the Brother Charger 11 taken on the Jerome trip, I'd say the Olympia has a more solid feel, though weighs more, but also makes a nicer imprint. And its clam shell lid latch components are made from metal, so they should be more reliable than what I've experienced with the Brother. I know some people criticize these Brother portables, but aside from the broken lid latch, I've found them to be rather reliable. But the Olympia is a more solid machine; and you could argue perhaps has better aesthetics going for it, too.

It's interesting that in all my travels with typewriters I've only ever taken with me an ultra-portable typer. Yet room in one's vehicle shouldn't limit oneself to just those diminutive models, since there's plenty of space in the back seat for at least a medium-sized portable. The real issue is how easy the machine is to lug from car to hotel room, or in the case of last week's trip, from our room to the garden for some private typing. The Brother was a good choice in that respect, as it is light in weight; but I can very much see myself on a future trip taking a medium-sized portable like one of my Smith-Corona Silents. The fancy Corona Standard I think will stay safely at home for the time being.

Since I mentioned the Smith-Corona Silents, I should also make mention that I did a bit more investigation into the intermittent escapement issue plaguing the Super-Silent. I've had promising results by comparing its inner workings with the more reliable Silent stablemate, and documented my findings in a video:

Transformation

Post-Script: I didn't have carbon paper with me when I wrote that impromptu piece for our hostess, but I did snap a poor-quality photo afterwards, which I'll transcribe here:

She holds court this morning, like she does every morning now for over 25 years, the Queen Bee in her hive of a kitchen, every tool and implement at hand, mixing bowl readied, concoctions being poured and blended, things baking in the oven. The sunlight streams in from across the vista separating there from here, as if one could fathom the tremendous distances involved.

We, her guests, carefully descend the creaking staircase from our nests of Victorian rest to warm our gullets with coffee or tea, while outside a cool wind blows from last night's storm as a hummingbird mother perches in her golf ball-sized nest warming her eggs against the onslaught; nurture or nature? Perhaps that's not even the relevant question.

What is it that makes our hostess Andrea invite us to become, if but for a night or two, one of her brood? It would be too simplistic to declare mere commerce as the primary motivation; even though, out on that tree limb those chicklets, once hatched, will require to be fed every fifteen minutes. Are we that needy, too?

The Surgeon's House was intended, when built in the years of the Great War, as a place of healing, of wellness; the home of the one who brings solace in a time of great need. There are times in every person's life when a helping hand is needed, even though they might not realize their plight; perhaps that is why we secretly come to these places - not just for a bed and board, for we could find some simulacra in any Inn for sojourners - but that we secretly long to be nurtured back to some inner wellness.

Here, as she holds court in her kitchen, we find a gentle touch here and an insightful word spoken there, a sparkle in her eye and wholeness for our being in the gratitude of the meal served before us. We lounge amidst a life's gathering of living leafy beings while books and paintings feed and nourish our souls. Outside, the roar of Harleys and pickups, headed to nowhere, is but a gentle reminder that, if but for a night or two, we are home.

The broken latch on the Brother typewriter case I remedied by the application of a $5 tourist-quality leather belt, purchased at a local gift shop. Where there's a will, there's a way.

We found a neat antique store in Jerome, and I immediately spotted a mid-20th century typewriter sitting on the floor in its case. It turned out to be a Smith-Corona Silent, an exact mate to one already in my collection. It was a bit dirty and in need of some service. The platen was very hard, and it has pica-sized font. They were asking $28, which is a pretty good price for a tourist town antique store, as I've seen some sellers asking twice that back here in Albuquerque. I almost picked it up, but passed on it, as I already have one in my possession. And by passing on it, I was able to prove to my better half that, yes, I do have some degree of self-control when it comes to typewriter collecting. Perhaps this gives me more sway when I do find a model I really want in my collection, at some time in the future. Grease the skids, and all that! Any of you Arizona Typospherians in need of a Smith-Corona Silent might want to make the trek up to Jerome this weekend. The antique store is just across the street and up hill from the post office.

This typecast was written while seated in the passenger seat of our Subaru, somewhere on Interstate 40 between Flagstaff and the NM border. It proved to be a good way to while away the many miles of open country with something productive.

There will most likely be a video coming in the near future about car typing on the road; and also about using typewriters, as I was fortunate to do so, as tools for creative writing.

Munk's Tape Dispenser Meme & More

Post-Script: Here's the link to Rev. Ted's tape dispenser blog article. Alas, my Brother Charger 11 doesn't exactly match the color of the 3M Model C-15 dispenser. Does this mean I should immediately run out to the nearest thrift store and look for another typewriter? No, but I like the way you're thinking.

Here's Mike Clemens' blog article from 2009 (I had the date wrong in my typecast above) on what he calls "colorcasting." Not to be outdone, here's Strikethru's article about colorcasting at Starbucks. And here's Little Flower Petals' colorcasting article. And here are some of my own blog articles from that same time period on colorcasting and aluminum foil typecasting. Wasn't that a great time in the formative years of the Typosphere? Thank you, Ted, for reviving our spirits a bit.

I was surprised by my dear wife's reaction to my suggestion that those plastic tape cores might serve as napkin rings. She's normally very sensitive to clutter and junk (an intrinsic problem when married to a packrat such as myself), but she suggested I decorate these cores with colorful adhesive tape, and collect eight of them for our formal dinner service. I should check if she's running a fever...

Firmness of Intent

Post-Script: Perhaps I'm wasting opportunity by writing random nonsense while test-typing, instead of something more worthwhile like memorizing and typing the Gettysburg Address, or one of the Articles of Confederation, or a bible verse. But I see it as an opportunity to test my creative mettle while engaged in typewriter maintenance, a kind of right-brain/left-brain mashup. And I've come up with some funny stuff, some of which isn't appropriate for mixed company.

One thing I enjoy about building up a backlog of papers waiting to be filed is the pleasure that comes from reading back through those pieces and rediscovering them anew. I'm going to make a point of revisiting my old writings more often, for inspiration if for no other reason.

Today I spent some time organizing my typewriter collection, in preparation for an interview to be conducted tomorrow. I won't say anything else about it for now, but will update you when appropriate. I attached tags to all of my typewriter cases, so they can be more easily identified; some of those mid-20th century, medium-sized portable look very similar in their cases.

Typecast via Brother Charger 11. Yes, it's a stripped-down student's model, lacking tabs, touch adjustment or a repeat spacer. But it is solidly made and types fine; and is very portable, a pleasure to take out to the front patio on a cool winter day.