An Ideal Adventure

Post-Script: We ate breakfast at the hotel cafe, then after loading up our gear and checking out, we headed over to the eCommerce Goodwill to pick up Kevin's Ideal model A2. I was surprised when I saw it, since Kevin has lately been collecting ultra-portables, but this one is a wonderfully crafted machine from 1901. I'll have to do a more detailed review of it once it's cleaned.

From the Goodwill in Tucson we drove over to Mesa, a two-hour drive, and spent most of the day at Mesa Typewriter Exchange with Bill Wahl and Ted Munk. A fun time was had, as Bill spent the majority of his time talking with Kevin about the Ideal, and Ted entertained me with a show-and-tell from Bill's ultraportable collection. I really need a cameraman to do a more thorough job of documenting these encounters, as I barely had time to shoot much footage with Bill.

Also, had I not been feeling so under the weather we might have stayed the evening and spent more time with Bill & Ted; but we got on the road by 4PM, and arrived home by 11:30 at night.

I'm still recuperating today, and feel like I may have to call in sick tomorrow. Oh well, so it goes.

I enjoyed using the Silent-Super for this trip, despite it being heavier than a Rocket or Skyriter. The new rubber rollers really make a difference. This is the closest it's come to functioning like a new machine since it was, well, new. A far cry from its origins as a grungy, stinky, broken typer. I've probably spent more time over the years working on this one machine than any other in my collection. But now it runs like it should. Good bones, good design.

Compact, Colorful Computer Keyboard Craziness

I'm doing this crazy techno-mashup that's not supposed to work, and that's likely to infuriate both the digerati and the Typosphere, which is to plug a standard USB-wired PC keyboard - one of those wide decks that's about the size of a miniature skateboard, minus the wheels and trucks, that has the function keys and ten-key-pad off to the right, so far off to the right that if you were using a mouse with your right hand your right elbow would be in the next county, and you'd certainly be showing signs of carpel tunnel - into my little iPod Touch, via its standard USB adapter.

No, it's not one of those sleek, Apple-looking wireless keyboards with those rubbery chicklet keys, that advertises you're somewhere in the 21st century; no sir, this is one of those clacky desktop keyboards that shouts "1980." Actually, it's not that cool; just a standard HP keyboard from the last decade. But where to mount the tiny iPod Touch so as to make this a practical writing rig?

My wife, smart as she is, immediately knew the solution, which was to employ the lap desk. So now I'm seated in the backyard, under our big tree, on a cloudy, late Summer's day, with this big keyboard and the tiny Joby Gorilla Pod holding the dinky iPod Touch. At least the black-and-white theme of the HP keyboard matches the tripod's. Not that fashion statements matter at this late date.

This little iPod has a very small battery, smaller than an iPhone's, so battery life is an issue. When I'm not actually needing to be connected to WiFi I set it to airplane mode; and now with this wired keyboard I also don't need to be wasting more battery juice with blue tooth turned on.

How I found out about using a standard USB keyboard on an iOS device is because I was on one of those Internet fixations the other day, researching so-called "60%" mechanical keyboards, and came across a keyboard discussion forum (you knew there'd be such a thing, right?) where this was mentioned.

I have this hate/hate relationship with full-sized keyboards, the ones with 110 or so keys and all those extra keys off to the right; that, if you're a touch-typist like me, with your fingers on the home row, your hands are centered about 1/3 of the way over from the left side of the keyboard. Which is an issue with certain workstation setups, like just about every one in the factory where I work, that equip each station with just enough room for one of these wide behemoths, and position the monitor over the middle of the thing, so that us touch-typists can't have the alphanumeric keys and monitor centered in front of them; and also us right-handed mouse users are relegated to a very non-ergonomic position. I've taken to mousing left-handed while at work, just to take the strain off my right shoulder and wrist.

I don't use those ten-key-pads off to the right; I never worked in a grocery store as a clerk, back in the days before barcode scanners, when the clerks would pick up the can of beans out of your cart with one hand, read the price on the little sticky paper label and, without looking, key in the price on the cash register with the other hand. I remember in high school the math department had classes that taught students how to be fluent in touch entry on adding machines and cash registers and such. It would be only a decade or two after that and such skills would be entirely obsolete.

The desk in my office is one of those big cherrywood colored, Scandinavian-styled corner units. You'd think I'd have plenty of room, but with all the clutter I like to accumulate, such as scanner, printer and a plethora of books and papers, a full-sized keyboard is kind of a nuisance. There's also a typewriter on the desk, but that doesn't count as clutter, of course. What I really want is a smaller keyboard.

A practical person would go down to the nearest big-box retailer and pick up for cheap a medium-sized keyboard, one without the ten-key-pad off to the right, but one that still has the top row of function keys and the navigation keys on the right. But I'm not a practical person; especially after I discovered so-called "60%" keyboards, ones that only have the alphanumeric keys and the few additional ones immediately adjacent, no function or navigation keys; instead, they use a program key that accesses three other key mapping layers.

These tiny keyboards seem to be popular with geeks who like to attend gaming conferences and don't want to travel with their full-sized keyboards, that are as big as their skateboards. Also, there's this popular fascination with mechanical keyboards, that I suspect any typewriter fanatic could appreciate, much like the way a film photographer can appreciate Fuji digital cameras that appear somewhat film-camera-like.

While IBM model-M keyboards enjoy a legacy of being the standard in mechanical keyboards, the big name in mechanical keyboard switches these days has been Cherry, and they have a full line of such switches, each with a different kind of feel (detent or linear, with a variety of force settings), that are identified by color. Cherry Blue switches are the most clicky feeling, and the loudest, with the Cherry Browns being more subtle, followed by the Cherry Clear switches. Since keyboard touch, as any typewriter fanatic can tell you, is such a personal thing, buying into such an exotic keyboard should not be done without first a bit of research. Luckily, there are sample switches you can buy. I just ordered, from Wasd Keyboards, a 6-key Cherry sampler, that I hope will give me more information before I embark down the road of acquiring a custom mechanical keyboard to my liking.

There is also, as with any technological field of interest, more exotic keyboards and switches. Some of these Japanese magnetic reed switch keyboards have attracted interest, like the way that denizens of local coffee shops like to denigrate Starbucks as being "so corporate." The more exotic the better, like small lines of exotic Japanese denim jeans, ones that are so pricey that you can't afford to wash them. There's also an interest in legacy keyboards by many young folks, with pre-PC mainframe keyboards and early Apple models in high demand.

Stylistically, I'm somewhat attracted to the control consoles of nuclear command centers and other military computer systems, like what you'd see in the film "War Games," or what we saw, earlier this year, when we visited the Titan II Missile Museum, south of Tucson, Arizona. "Don't press the red key, that launches the missile." It would be so cool to have a keyboard with a red key that said "Launch," or maybe "Apocalypse Now."

I'll probably buy my keyboard from Wasd, because they offer this spectacularly personalizable 61-key keyboard where you can choose the color of each key - yes, think about that for a second: each key can be customized with whatever color you choose, even artwork - along with your choice of labels. They have a Flickr account where you can view, in jaw-dropping color schemes, all the hundreds of custom keyboards they've fashioned for customers.

Some of these color schemes directly remind me of the pre-Personal Computer era, when mainframes were controlled by these colorful banks of switches. Certainly, some of the designs are a bit too much, like alternating the color of every other key, just to be different; but other color schemes seem simultaneously practical and beautiful.



I was seated at this same spot in the backyard yesterday, typing on my robins egg-blue Webster XL-747 typewriter, with white keys, bold black labels and the red tab and repeat spacer keys, when it struck me that this would make a dandy color scheme for a custom keyboard. I'm thinking the letter keys would be white with large, black labels centered on the keys; the number row would be robins egg blue and the surrounding keys (control, shift, caps, tab, escape, enter, backspace) would be bright red. Not red, white and blue for patriotic reasons, but in honor of this wonderfully pretty typewriter from the 1970s.

I must not be alone in my appreciation of the color schemes of manual typewriter keys, because I also saw a photo of an all-green 60% keyboard, inspired by the Hermes 2000/3000 line of typewriters.

This fascinates me, that manual typewriters could serve as design inspiration for modern-day, tech-savvy computer geeks and gamers; people who are decidedly not part of the Typosphere and typewriter blogging community. Sometimes you have to step outside of your own cultural community to see the wider picture of how much typewriters have inspired and informed the culture at large.

Which reminds me, on a side note, that I walked into a Goodwill store about ten minutes after someone found an Olympus SM-3, in burgundy trim, for $5. She was kind enough to let me take a peek inside that wonderfully round carrying case, but I couldn't talk her out of her intended purchase. Which is fine, since I have 11 typewriters, and this will be her first. Spread the wealth. But still, such a nice machine for five bucks. It boggles the mind, thinking about all those potential great bargains I've missed by not being on constant patrol of the thrift stores. Best not to think of it, since I've been reminded repeatedly, by She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed, that I have enough typewriters for now. Uh huh.

This combination of clacky keyboard and iPod Touch reminds me so much of the Alphasmart line of word processing keyboards. I've visited their Flickr site many times, and read many of the discussion threads, but can't recall mention of this easy way to simulate an Alphasmart system with an iOS device and standard USB keyboard.

I'm thinking that another way to incorporate a miniature 61-key keyboard, in a personalized color scheme, with an iOS device would be to build some little bracket device that attaches the iPod Touch right behind the keyboard, elevated at a convenient viewing angle.

Oh, did I mention that there are also wooden (yes, wooden - think exotic tropical hardwood) holders for these mechanical keyboards? It boggles the mind, and possibly the checkbook, too.

Here's the link to the Wasd Flickr site, where you can drool over all those wonderfully colorful keyboards.

Someone should immediate comment this blog article and try to stop me from acquiring a custom-designed keyboard. Or, better yet, convince me with an even better argument in favor.

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.

TWVS Episode 7: Typing on the Road

Brother From Another Mother?

Post-Script: Now that I'm on my work shift, I've let this newcomer to my collection sit out in my Man Cave shed for a few days, so the PB Blaster odor can dissipate a bit. I do like the way it cleaned up, considering how filthy it was on its insides. I suspect there's still just a bit of gunk still in the carriage rails, as there's just a bit of non-smooth, subtle grinding happening.

The type slugs cleaned up fine, but being as the typeface is small (elite), the loops in some of the characters, like the lowercase "e", tend to clog easily. This might be due to the ribbon, which is one of the two it came with. If this problem persists, I'll try changing the ribbon.

Beside the body color and typeface differences, the ribbon color selector only has an upper and lower position (along with the stencil setting), not the middle, yellow position like my blue machine. (I mean to say that the yellow setting doesn't move the ribbon into a unique, middle position. Perhaps an adjustment issue? Hmm.)

As I indicated in the typed piece, I don't yet know if this one stays or gets sold. I do really like the serif typeface, very elegant.

Now, onto a different topic. I'll be in Tucson, Arizona, this next week. I intend on taking a typewriter and video gear, with the intention of doing at least one Typewriter Video Series episode while on the road. Part of this depends on whether I can, in the next day or two, figure out how to transfer my .WAV sound files, from my digital field recorder, directly into the iPad. Up until now, I've had to use iTunes on my PC. But I understand that if a person installs the Garage Band app from Apple's store, it gives the ability to import such sound files directly to the iPad. Does anyone out there have any direct experience with this? Otherwise, my option will be to have to also take my laptop with me, onto which is installed iTunes.

Since I'm an old geezer who doesn't do Facetunes or Instablab, does anyone know of any typewriter or typosphere contacts in the Tucson area, who'd like to do an informal meetup? I'll be in town from Monday through Friday. If so, just email me.

Finally, I was pleased to have been mentioned on Rodja Pavlik's blog, here.