Like most humans, I acquire stuff related to the stuff I collect. Some of it came with the stuff; some of it is just part of the stuff that accumulates. When it comes to typospherian stuff, it is always interesting.
There are always papers of one sort or another.
This German factory inspection report was tucked away with the Olympia SM3 found for me by my Beloved Spousal Unit. (To see it in full size, click on the image.)
This notice came with the 1950s-era Skywriter I got from Goodwill's online shopping site. On the reverse the previous owner had handwritten his name, address, and phone number. And below that typed the "Quick brown fox/lazy dog" test sentence.
This product label fluttered out when I removed the above notice.
This metallic 'award' sticker fell off of the case of a mid-1960s Smith Corona I nabbed at Goodwill recently.
A wee tube of typewriter/machine oil.
This is clipped in the case of the 1929 Corona Four I purchased from a one-time military man who went on to become an engineer. Not surprisingly, the machine was in tip-top shape and continues to provide superb service.
Brushes to clean the type slugs.
An older brush from L.C. Smith & Corona.
Spare spool, no ribbon.
A collection of spares from my Repairs Box.
Learner texts I found at our local Half Price Books. The orange one covers manual and electric machines. The other is for electrics only - the drawn images look like the then-new Selectric model.
This last one is my high school textbook - still one of the best in terms of instructional approach. It is also the only typing textbook I've seen that is designed to be used the way a typist needs it to be used! The cleverly engineered binding means the book stands up by itself when in use. The pages are printed on both sides and the hinged binding works in both directions.
(In case you're interested - I've seen copies of the 3rd edition on Amazon for $1. Here's the publication info: Personal and Professional Typing. Third edition. [Hardcover] By S.J. Wanous. (C) 1967. Southwestern Publishing Company. No ISBN but there is a Library of Congress number: 67-16654.)
I've just the one rubber stamp. I bought it because it looked the first typewriter I ever used - the typewriter my Dad used in college and when he began professoring. It took me through high school and my own undergrad career.
My good friend Hoja is gallivanting through Northern Europe for a few months of adventure and research. In her latest report, she tells of walking the streets of Tallinn, Estonia, in particular, the old 1/2-mile square of Vanalinn (Old Town). This image above she captions as
"Nuku Museum of Puppet Arts: this is their "Steampunk Puppet Theater" -- a glowing window of clockwork automatons that whirl into jangly action every 30 minutes."
The museum's information video is a thorough delight!
Ah, were you expecting your own language? Did it matter? Hoja is finding that being a non-native has this most peculiar effect: a kind of fantastical buzzy glow. She says, with delight, "imagine my surprise now that the printed word has absolutely no
I am immediately reminded of my 2nd most favorite book in the world: Shaun Tan's The Arrival.
If I could give this book to every person I meet, I would. It so precisely, so whimsically, so poignantly captures what it is to be Other - the stranger in strange lands. Tan's illustrations are a master class in their expressive simplicity. I have written about this book at length previously in my Cool Book series. Please have a look. Please have a read.
And now, the end is here And so I face the final curtain My friend, I'll say it clear I'll state my case, of which I'm certain I've lived a life that's full I traveled each and ev'ry highway And more, much more than this, I did it my way Regrets, I've had a few But then again, too few to mention I did what I had to do and saw it through without exemption I planned each charted course, each careful step along the byway And more, much more than this, I did it my way Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew When I bit off more than I could chew But through it all, when there was doubt I ate it up and spit it out I faced it all and I stood tall and did it my way I've loved, I've laughed and cried I've had my fill, my share of losing And now, as tears subside, I find it all so amusing To think I did all that And may I say, not in a shy way, "Oh, no, oh, no, not me, I did it my way" For what is a man, what has he got? If not himself, then he has naught To say the things he truly feels and not the words of one who kneels The record shows I took the blows and did it my way!
Yes, it was my way*
Yes friends, the end was in sight, but forget the Mayans . . . this is NaNoWriMo we're talking about! "Thirty days of literary abandon" is how its originators describe it. Thirty days of glorious, mad, focused, terrible and wonderful madness. And for those with typewriters, 30 days of sheer crazy!
To those who typed; those who thought about typing; those who supported those who typed; to those who finished; to those who tried to finish; to those who knew they wouldn't finish and kept writing anyway; and those who simply went along for fun. Congratulations! And in final celebration, here are the last images I made for our very merry group.
As the final week dawned, there were a few, faint expressions of concern. Never did 50K seem so close and yet so far.
In a brief moment of panic, desperate measures were considered: anything to get the words out.
But the calm voice of The Great Rhino steadied the troops.
The last week's Postcards of Encouragement were sent out.
And in the last few hours of November, still the Great Rhino exhorted.
On the final day, the Great Rhino knew he had done all he could.
And in his mighty heart, he felt gladness and deep joy for the
great powers of imagination his Brigadiers had all shown.
Every word was precious.
Every minute of creativity was a noble thing.
But then, at midnight, the clock towers told the tale.