Last weekend I hosted a typewriter get-together at my place in Arlington for DC-area typewriter enthusiasts. I have missed in-person social situations where I could talk typewriters with typewriter people, and I wanted to connect with local collectors.
Last summer I went to visit my sister. It was a joyous reunion since we hadn’t seen each other in a while. I come from a family of eight kids, and we’re spread out all over the place. It’s always an exciting, chaotic time when two or more of us get together. That brings to mind the famous quote:
A local gentleman contacted me recently via email about a Royal KMM. Jonathan had inherited his grandfather’s KMM and hoped to get it running.
J. is a local typewriter enthusiast who brings me problem typewriters from time to time. She doesn’t just admire her lovelies on a shelf, she works them hard, typing daily. Her Olympia SM3 below is beloved. Not only does it look truly scrumptious with that box-o-chocolates keyboard, it types like an Olympia—that is to say, like a mechanical dream.
I am friendly with a local gal who loves typewriters and writing. J. has a really nice collection of typers, and I have worked on a couple of them. She had had a beat-up Olivetti Lettera 22 I fixed up a couple years ago. It eventually became a favorite typewriter for her. She gave it to a friend and now misses it very much.
I’ve been getting some questions about platen recovering recently. Last year, I recovered a Remington Portable #2 platen and an Underwood 5 platen that were in sorry shape. In their cracked condition, the bad platens made the typewriters unusable. I thought: well, what’s the worst I can do?
We interrupt this typewriter blog post for an important public service announcement:
A local lady heard through the grapevine that I liked to tinker with old typewriters. K. had purchased a Royal KMM at a yard sale and was hoping to get it typing. I was glad to take on the project since it would be a distraction from my Twitter horror scrolling and my hand-wringing over the broken state of the world. She brought it over a couple weekends ago, and here it is on my porch on arrival:
I have recently been thinking a lot about this three-axle End Times van my son spotted in San Mateo a couple years ago.
The marathon of holiday events that stretch from Thanksgiving to New Year’s is pounding along, and I am gamely holding my own. Others may drop out from exhaustion; but I am a solid long-distance runner, and I will win this holiday season. To that end, I hosted a Holiday Typewriter Open House.
In mid-October, I attended the Typewriter Jamboree at Herman’s in West Virginia. This is my third time there, and I get so much out of it. I had a really good time re-connecting with those I’ve met before, meeting new typewriter people, geeking out over interesting typewriters and repairs, laughing my fool head off over typewriter-related antics. Really, where else would you get all that kind of typewriter-related fun?
A fellow typospherian entrusted this 1925 Remington Portable #2 to me. It looked pretty good from a distance with nice decals and intact paint, but it had seen some action:
Look at this 1956 Underwood De Luxe Quiet Tab, serial number AA2633478. He’s so handsome! Underwood flexes for us and displays the bulging muscles of America’s postwar abundance. Gold accents! He’s living large – the embodiment of industrial designer Raymond Loewy‘s quip: “The loveliest curve I know is the sales curve.”
Last week, I got a text from a local typospherian about a couple typewriters that needed a clean-up and fix. Was I interested? Of course!