Stories Moths Tell

Just to illustrate the ubiquity of stories waiting to be told, just this evening I made note of the overhead kitchen light casting a star-like pattern of lights into the sink, from the holes in the nearby pasta strainer. Which then led us to discussing my wife's grandmother's old pasta colander, which she'd used for years until one of the legs broke off, after which I repurposed it into an overhead light fixture in my Man Cave shed. Which then led me to think, "That's another story needing to be told."



Here's a few thoughts I put together in video format, based on this piece, about the ubiquity of stories and the necessity to be a listener before we can be a teller.

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.

Talking With Your Fingers

Post-Script: The reference in that last paragraph to Kerouac's On The Road was unplanned, but perhaps inevitable, given the nearly identical method of composition. I've read On The Road numerous times, but never in the context of it being a work specifically wrought onto teletype paper via manual typewriter, in some manic act of marathon muttering. Perhaps a reread is warranted.

I find the smaller font size of the Silent Super to be ideal for this kind of writing, as it seems more like letter-writing, more personable, requiring an up-close read, an intimate squint into one's own soul.

Misspellings and typographic errors courtesy of the author.

TWVS Episode 10 & Taking a Spill

This week's episode of the Typewriter Video Series covers the subject of fitting typewriters into a larger writing lifestyle, and especially with handwritten notes and rough drafts.

Meanwhile, the following blog article was inspired by a little incident last night involving my Webster XL-747 portable typewriter.




Post-Script: Certainly those Hermes and Olympias are more refined writing tools than the diminutive ultra-portables like the Webster. What matters most importantly to me are typing action and quality of imprint. While the Webster has a nice, dark imprint, its typing action was much stiffer than the bigger machines, yet I kept wanting to make it a favorite among my collection because of its small size, bright color and that it has the repeat spacer feature. Now, after last night's episode, I really do have a newfound respect for it. While those European models mentioned previously might be more refined, they would not have survived a drop to the floor without suffering extensive damage, I'm almost certain, if for no other reason than their heavier weight and, in the case of the newer body style of Hermes 3000, the extensive use of plastics in the body panels.

My enthused typing that followed was a watershed moment for me in my relationship with typewriters as writing tools. Never before had I experienced an excited, emotional period that also had with it an exuberant physical response. It was that more energetic typing action on my part that fueled my mind to break free from convention and write more spontaneously, almost conversationally. Since the letter was private, and has already been posted, I can't share it with you; but perhaps at some point in the future I'll get in the same frame of mind and post a typecast in the same vein.

While recording practice scenes in my Man Cave shed for this latest video, I happened upon the idea of writing sheds and their relationship with typewriters. This I think will be excellent subject matter for a future video in the series.

Typecast via Webster XL-747.

TWVS Episode 9 & More

Post-Script: I think the audio quality is the best part of my video productions thus far. But my video style is much too static. I keep seeing other You Tube channels with much more dynamic and spontaneous footage. For example, there's "Big Head Taco," a photographer from Vancouver, BC by the name of Take Kayo, who this week posted a nice video of himself walking around the streets of his city, recorded using a small mirrorless camera with wide-angle lens, held in one hand via a tripod ball-head mount, that lends a kind of spontaneity that my productions lack. Of course, it's hard to carry a video camera in one hand if you intend on discussing typewriters while also carrying a typewriter. But still, I do need to improve these videos and make them a bit more visually interesting. This latest video of mine did have some visual appeal only because of the wonderful setting, with birds flitting round about me while I talked.

I recently "upgraded" my home Internet with a faster DSL plan and also ordered a new router; but the new router had poorer range and coverage than the older router; the new one lacks external dipole antennas, which I think is part of the problem (the main problem being that the phone company is obviously trying to save money). I thought about returning it, but then did some Internet research and figured out how to use the old router, daisy-chained to the new one via a network cable, as a secondary hot spot, and now I have good coverage and speed at home, including in the Man Cave shed out back. Last night's video rendered and uploaded, via WiFi from the iPad, in only 45 minutes, which was much faster than before.

The storage box for the Nekkid-Riter is constructed in a similar fashion to many of my earlier pinhole camera designs, which is a space-frame made from 5/8" finish-grade poplar sticks, sheathed in thin luan plywood, with a base of heavier finish-grade oak plywood. It's a lightweight but strong design that's easy to execute. For the edges, where the plywood tended to flake and chip when cross-cut, I intend on installing 1/2" brass angle brackets, to cover the gaps and chips, while also giving it a bit more durability. I had to modify the space-frame design a bit, to permit the typewriter's platen knobs to clear the left and right side frame members when being slid in and out of the box; my intention was to make the box as small as possible while still being practical. I'm using folding metal equipment handles on both sides, that will also be convenient attachment points upon which to clip a carrying strap, should I decide to go mobile with the Nekkid-Riter. The typewriter's thick wooden base now has two 1/4-20 threaded inserts mounted underneath, which secures the typewriter in the case via a set of thumbscrews from the bottom side of the box. I'll post photos in a subsequent blog article after the project is complete.

Typecast via the Nekkid-Riter's more conservative sibling (who prefers to keep her clothes on, thank you very much), the blue Hermes 3000.