Typecast: "The role of the typewriter in an otherwise modern life"

Moleskine hacks: a list

It's probably nothing you couldn't do with 10 seconds and a browser, but here is a very random list of Moleskine hacks (I kind of hate the term hack... it is just a *little* dorky) for those with some spare time, a notebook, and a need to customize it.

I notice a lot in these hacks a mention of some book called Getting Things Done, which appears to be some sort of productivity-based secular religion around which many Moleskine hacks are based. Take note.

* List of user hacks
* Lifehacker Moleskine posts
* More random modifications
* Moleskine PDA
* Explanation of the GDT ("Getting Things Done") system.
* Someone else's list of Moleskine hack links

Note: Did I draw this Moleskine with MS Paint? Why yes, yes I did.

Moleskine cahier baby picture book

On impulse, I recently bought a pack of the small-sized Moleskine cahier notebooks, the ones with the paper bag-colored covers. I had no idea what I would use them for, as I already have a somewhat-saturated collection of Moleskines. However, the cahiers seemed like they'd be perfect for a specific project, as opposed to the random story ideas, addresses, and other bits of flotsam I have littered my main notebook with.

I happen to have a baby around the house who is learning words. I'd love to have a baby word book to show her, except that all the picture books you find in corporate book stores have weird, irrelevant words like "queue," or "blobfish," the kind of words that don't generally come up much in a baby's first year. And so I set out to transform one of my accusingly blank cahier notebooks into a picture book, with words reflecting more baby-relevant concepts.

Creating a Moleskine picture book involves the simple act of trolling magazines for images (Note: The New Yorker is terrible for this purpose) to cut out, glue-sticking them to Moleskine pages (using Avery glue sticks, and not the house brand at the nearest office supply conglorporation, that so happens to make very lame, non-sticking glue sticks), and stamping the words with alphabet stamps, unless you have really great handwriting (I don't).

If you follow these instructions, wham: your kid can have a relevant-word picture book, and you can have an instant project for your cahier notebook.

Moleskine blogging: flat cats

There are plenty of Moleskine notebook users who are artistic types. I'm not one of those people, but I don't let it stop me.

Here's a fine example: today, I installed a flat cat onto the back pocket of one of my notebooks. What is a flat cat, you ask? It is a paper cat, with grommets (or eyelets, as they say in scrapbooking circles) for joints. Right. Why would I do this? It is a long story. All you need to know is, that it was done, and it is an example of weird things you can do with your Moleskine.

I don't generally recommend that you run out and install your own flat cat, thus, I am sidestepping specific instructions here in this post. Why do I not recommend it? Because anything involving grommets requires a special set of grommet tools, which I happen to have, being an art-supply junkie (if only you could buy talent), but that I am betting you don't have lying around the house. My only goal here is to make the general point that you can install something weird in your Moleskine; for example, a paper cat with movable joints.

Here are all the pictures. Let them serve as an inspiration for all Moleskine bloggers of questionable talent who seek to install movable art objects into their notebooks.

Postscript

OK, it doesn't seem right to just saunter off with my flat cat without providing some guidance on how to replicate one. So here are the instructions:

Supplies:

* Two sheets of card stock paper
* Glue, scissors
* Stuff to decorate your cat (stamps, pens, paint, etc.)
* Eyelet-setting tools and eyelets (borrow them from scrapbooking relative). I hear there are newfangled, cooler eyelet setters these days you might want to try to track down.
* Oh yeah: your Moleskine. Make sure it is not smaller than your cat!

Instructions:

1) Draw a pattern for a flat cat (or flat - whatever) onto sturdy card stock paper. Each moveable part should be a separate peice. In my example, I created one leg, one arm, and one torso/head (you can flip the arm and leg to trace for the second of a pair).

2) Cut out your pattern.

3) Using the pattern, trace the body, two legs, and two arms onto another peice of cardstock. Decorate the traced parts and cut out.

4) Attach the limbs to the body using eyelets. This tutorial from Impress will show you how.

Important notes: Tap the hammer very lightly when you set the eyelet. One tap will usually suffice if you are hammering on a hard surface. You need to leave some room for the limb to rotate under the eyelet. Also, make sure you are hammering the arms and legs on in the correctly-facing direction. I screwed up and hammered my cat's arms facing inward. Lame!

5) Voila: flat cat. But you're not done. Cut out a strip of paper of a decent width and length to make a loop to glue to the middle of your cat's back. Once the loop is glued to your cat, glue the other side to the outside of the back pocket of your Moleskine. This will give your cat a little room to "pop" off the page, so his limbs can move around.

6) Enjoy the glory that is flat cat every time you use your Moleskine.

P.S.: Flat cats got a mention on Moleskinerie.com. Awesome.

Collecting typewriters: know your limits

Typewriters take up a lot of space. They're anachronistic and kooky, and generally suggest that you spend time spelunking the web for encyclopedic facts on obscure mid-century manufacturing trivia. They're not a good way to pick up babes. Therefore I proclaim that if you find yourself newly interested in typewriters, that you know your limit before you start acquiring them.

Let's look at my situation: not a ton of free space at home, no desk or office of my own. All office-like activities are done from a small, poorly furnished nook of the home, featuring a wobbly, portable Ikea computer table known as Dave. Does this sound like someone who should be collecting 15 pound metal writing machines that come in big vinyl suitcases?

Early on, well in excess of my actual collecting capacity, I set my limit at three. As of yesterday, the limit was violated, as I fell prey to an eBay listing for an irresistible and reasonably-priced retro orange Olympia Traveller De Luxe. I still need to write that post about getting a typewriter on eBay, I justified to myself.

A bad move, I know. I don't even have room for one typewriter, let alone four. I am like a polygamist who lives in a one room apartment. In any case, my point is this: know your limit. If you exceed your limit, have a plan. In my case, there may be an Underwood 319 looking for a new home really soon.

Dymo Mite tapewriter

When I was a kid, my dad made lots of 8-track tape labels with a Dymo tapewriter: Elvis Now!, Gord's Gold, Peter Paul and Mary and Boz Scaggs and Linda Ronstadt, our soundtrack on the epic summer car trips to the South.

Somehow the tapewriter and its labels became synonymous with my dad and his 70's aesthetic: black binders full of graph paper diagrams, baskets of diodes, dismembered stereo speakers and TVs. He liked to build things. He liked technology. He was an early adopter. Although we lived a modest life, we were always the first ones to have the Betamax or the Atari 2600. The tapewriter, and its raised plastic-letter labels kept all the detritus of this pre-digital dawn in its rightful place.

Recently, I was poking about on eBay and found a link to this industrial-looking chrome Dymo Mite tapewriter that surely even pre-dated the 70's tapewriter of my dad's. Something in me just had to have it, to punch out a few more of those curly, hard plastic 8-track labels again.

How to find a manual typewriter, part 4: A refurbishing story

In part 1 of the finding a typewriter series, I mentioned that I put out a request on my local Freecycle alias for a manual typewriter. Through that effort, I was offered two machines: the Underwood 319, and a stylish little gray 1961 Royal Signet portable in a mouse-colored vinyl case.

Both were in excellent condition. I think neither one had been much used. However, the Signet was definitely home to some bug husks, dust balls, and gunked-up oil, which caused the typebars to move a little sluggishly. And so, I made my way over to the list of typewriter repair shops created by Richard Polt, one of which happened to be very close to where I work.

It was a tiny little two-room office equipment shop that I eventually found after driving a few circles around a labyrinthine outdoor shopping complex. I could see from an old hand-painted sign just inside the doorway that once, long ago, the store had concerned itself specifically with typewriters.

A lone gentleman sat at an old desk inside the shop, and confirmed that they did happen to do work on manual typewriters. Next to his desk was a glass case that contained turn-of-the-century machines: several Blicksensderfers, a fantasmic winged Oliver, and two Smith-Corona folding portables. He pointed out that the puck-like typewheel element in the Blicksensderfers predated the IBM Selectric typeball by half a century, and told me a few other typewriter war stories, including one about a lost typewriter of Ernest Hemingway's. I enjoyed the stories thoroughly.

The Royal was ready two days later. "I think this typewriter was hardly used," he confirmed. The jewel-like red inset Royal label seemed to glow very slightly in the gray metal top. They just don't design cool stuff like that anymore.

I took it into the office, and typed out a few sentences. The font (the term is pica, but doesn't that also mean people who compulsively eat dirt?) had thin, clean lines, and was unusually large. The print ad indicates that the Royal Signet was a student typewriter, that sold for $59.99 back before the Beatles took America.

45 years later, I got it for free.

My recommendation

Well, I realize this has been more of an anecdote than an opinion. Getting a typewriter cleaned and refurbished, including any repairs if needed, isn't cheap. This is something to consider when balking at the prices of official resellers-- the cleaning, repair, and oiling is included in their price (and they are probably likely to start with a good specimen in the first place).

But back to having it refurbished on your own: if you are fortunate enough to live near more than one typewriter repair shop, call around and compare estimates, and use this number to make an educated choice about whether taking a typewriter in to be refurbished makes sense for your budget and your situation. I guess the bottom line is, you have to have it cleaned and tuned somehow, unless you want to do it yourself.

One great bonus of going the repair shop route: you may see someone's cool old collection of typewriters, or hear a war story or two. People who are in this business obviously don't do it for the huge profits.

How to find a manual typewriter: the series
* Part 1: Freecycle
* Part 2: Garage sales
* Part 3: The refurb market
* Part 4: A refurbishing story
* Part 5: eBay
* Part 6: Antique stores
* Part 7: Blue Moon Camera & Machine

Typecast: 10 things I notice about using a typewriter after using computers for 15 years

I forgot to add an eleventh item to my list below, which is, computers hide your ignorance. If I am going to keep typecasting, I am going to need to pull out the dog-eared pocket dictionary I used in high school. Note my creative spelling of "mandatorily," among other words.

How to find a manual typewriter, part 3: The refurb market

In parts one and two of the finding a typewriter series, I covered the cheaper end of the typewriter racket: Freecycle and garage sales. Ah, you say, I'm forgetting eBay. Well, I will get to that eventually. But for today's installment, I am covering stores that sell refurbished typewriters directly.

As of this writing, I am aware of three such retailers: Blue Moon Camera, in Portland Oregon, The St. Louis Wholesale Typewriter Company, a.k.a. Mr. Typewriter, and mytypewriter.com. If there are others, please update me.

Blue Moon is a shop that specializes in, obviously, cameras, but they have a small collection of typewriters for sale at any given time, and if you e-mail them to inquire, they will send you a product list with prices. I asked about one Royal Quiet De Luxe in particular, and they sent me beautiful, professional photographs of the machine from all angles. Their prices are definitely quite reasonable for refurbished typewriters. Check here first, I would strongly advise. They seem to care a lot about their business and their typewriters come with a three month warranty.

On to mytypewriter.com. This is an excellent place to window shop. Their prices are high. I have not contacted or done any business with them, so this is the extent of what I know.

Lastly we have the St. Louis Wholesale Typewriter Company. This company is run by a man named Dan Puls, who has been in the typewriter business for some time. There is a definite sense of the man and his personality on the site; I encourage you to take a look around (but beware of sudden MIDI tunes!). This site is another great place to window shop and learn more about various typewriter models. My sense, and I am sure that this varies by machine, is that the prices are not quite as high here as they are at mytypewriter, but these machines are not cheap. This is of course, for the reason that resellers do a professional job of choosing, cleaning, refurbishing, and packaging machines, and when you get yours, it will be ready to use out of the box. It's up to the consumer to decide that these extras are worth the cost.

My refurb purchase: a case study

After researching typewriter models for a spell, I decided on the Olympia SM9, which seems to come highly recommended from most every typewriting corner. Now you can find these here and there on eBay, it's true, for a reasonable cost. However, such a purchase would come of course, with some hazards, and the chore of having the machine refurbished once I received it (assuming it didn't become broken in transit). I decided that I just wanted a nice, well-maintained model, with some guarantees, and I was willing to put up for that convenience.

And so, I made my purchase. In about a week or so, UPS arrived with my package. The mrtypewriter site amusingly illustrates its packing process, and as you can see from my photographs, the typewriter came well-packed. I've never seen a box taped up quite that thoroughly before, and my own dad is known as something of a maniacal package-taper.

Pros of buying a refurbished typewriter

* Get exactly the typewriter that you want

* Receive a typewriter in guaranteed working condition with cleaned and replaced parts

* Will likely be professionally packed for shipment

* Your typewriter will be waxed to a gleam, and not contain old bug husks and cocoons.

* Can start writing out of the box; probably comes with a new ribbon

* Will likely come with a case and a manual (ask about this).

Cons of the refurb route:

* Not cheap. Except I'd say, Blue Moon is very reasonable (but lacks the huge selection).


Recommendation:

I recommend this method with some reservation, depending on your budget, your desire to avoid hassles, your quality concerns, and how much you specifically want a certain machine. I think you have to decide this for yourself.


How to find a manual typewriter: the series
* Part 1: Freecycle
* Part 2: Garage sales
* Part 3: The refurb market
* Part 4: A refurbishing story
* Part 5: eBay
* Part 6: Antique stores
* Part 7: Blue Moon Camera & Machine

Typecast: I bought an Olympia SM9

Typecast: Typewriter ribbon capers

How to find a manual typewriter, part 2: Garage sales

Part 1 of the finding a typewriter series covered the Freecycle Network. I suggest you start there, because the news on garage sales is not, in my limited opinion, good for those in search of a manual.

In theory, it makes sense: people clearing junk out of their attics, natural habitat of neglected antique writing machines, and charging a pittance for you to take such items out of their lives. And so you get in your car on a summer Saturday morning, and start driving around your local suburbs with high hopes. Probably after a few stops, you're going to find some great old Royal Quiet De Luxe in remarkably fine condition, on sale for three bucks.

Newsflash: won't happen. Oh sure, it's remotely possible. Lottery possible. But as a general observation, after about three weeks of scoping out the weekend garage sale market, I am here to report that out of about 25 sales, I encountered exactly one typewriter, a very boring IBM-selectric-style electric sitting under a tarp in a downpour, that held no cool old typewriting cache whatsoever.

Possible reasons for lack of typewriters at garage sales:

* People can't seem to get rid of them. Like ghosts, they are intended to haunt attics for an indefinite period of time.

* People overestimate their value. One trip around eBay typewriter listings should dispel any thought that the average attic typewriter can fetch more than ten bucks on the open market, and yet I think people somehow think each one is an undiscovered Antiques Roadshow find.

* Hard-core yard salers buy them before the garage sale even starts... you know, those annoying people who show up 30 minutes early looking for comic books and LPs?

Pros of garage sale method

* If you like Vegas, sweepstakes, and racetracks, it might be the method for you.

* If you are also in the market for yellowing doilies, dusty spice jars with a chicken motif, rusty yard tools, and broken children's toys, you can kill two birds with one stone.

* You enjoy spending your Saturday mornings doing Y turns in suburban labyrinths

Cons

* You won't find a typewriter.

Recommendation

Cut out the middle man, and do it for free.


How to find a manual typewriter: the series
* Part 1: Freecycle
* Part 2: Garage sales
* Part 3: The refurb market
* Part 4: A refurbishing story
* Part 5: eBay
* Part 6: Antique stores
* Part 7: Blue Moon Camera & Machine

How to find a manual typewriter, part 1: Freecycle

As of just today, I have come to possess my first manual typewriter since the legendary Smith-Corona Galaxie Twelve of my youth: an Underwood 319.

The Underwood 319 is an unassuming, dun-colored machine of indistinct vintage (1970's, perhaps); collectors have never been quoted discussing it online. Although Underwood merged with Olivetti in 1959, the Underwood name apparently continued on for some random period of time, into the plastic-bodied, frumpy typewriter era of the 60's and beyond, from when this machine likely hails.

But back to story of origin: where did it come from?

As a completely novice typewriter fan, I've set out to test a handful of methods by which one can acquire a manual typewriter in Web 2.0 times. My first stop was to try the cheapest way possible: for free.

The Freecycle Network is an environmental "re-gifting" movement whereby people in local-area groups exchange requested or offered items to reduce waste. I asked, and I received the Underwood, in perfect working condition.

Freecycle pros for obtaining manual typewriter
* Well, it's free.
* Help liberate typewriter from someone's attic
* It's fun to see what typewriter might find its way to you
* No shipping!

FreeCycle cons:
* Might get broken typewriter. At the very least, you'll probably need to clean and recondition it. (Here is a listing of typewriter repair shops, and here is a resource for do-it-yourself).
* You probably aren't going to find something cool like this.
*You'll need to locate and buy a new ribbon

My recommendation

Let's get the following fact out of the way: I am in no position to collect typewriters, and don't even really like any made before the mid 40's-- too impractical. Any typewriter I get, I'm going to use it to write with. The Freecycle Network would not be a logical or even really an ethical way for a serious collector to hunt for machines. However, if you just want a typewriter or two for actual writing purposes, and like the thought of a typewriter finding you instead of the other way around, I highly recommend this method.

I plan to post again if I decide to have this machine refurbished (it's in pretty good condition actually) to review the pros and cons of that step, but for now, enjoy my first, badly botched typecast on the Underwood 319, old ribbon and all, as I re-learn how to manually type again while describing my attempts to find a new ribbon at Office Depot today (Warning: it isn't pretty. I promise fewer typos and bigger text next time).




How to find a manual typewriter: the series
* Part 1: Freecycle
* Part 2: Garage sales
* Part 3: The refurb market
* Part 4: A refurbishing story
* Part 5: eBay
* Part 6: Antique stores
* Part 7: Blue Moon Camera and Machine

Keytop cutters poach typewriter keys for jewelry?

I have been recently reading a few comments in a typewriting forum regarding the apparently common practice of dismantling antique typewriters to harvest the keytops for jewelry. This is interesting, because before I gained my recently renewed appreciation for the manual typewriter, I had seen piles of dismembered keytops at The Fremont Market in Seattle, and of course, all over the internet.

They really make for attractive jewelry, I can see the appeal. Making beautiful symbols from these old machines supports the thesis of the first chapter in The Iron Whim, which argues that although typewriters are dead in a practical sense, the "ghost in the machine" remains-- typewriter imagery continues to carry forward the ideals of creation, writing, and artistry into the 21st century.

However, the use of dismembered, antique glass keytops in necklaces and earrings necessitates destroying the machine itself in favor of the symbol it suggests. Fiscally it makes sense, since there is more of a market for the symbol than the machine. But, the more you know.... What if a great new pair of earrings was once some cool old green Remington portable #2?

I say this not knowing how, in fact, keytops are collected for jewelry. I see them in huge lots on eBay, so I am going to guess that there are people out there who hack up junked/discarded typewriters and resell the keytops to jewelers in lots like these (someone correct me if I'm wrong, I would like to know how it really works). It's easy to cook up fantasies about Elmer Fudd armed with an elephant gun, stalking some unsuspecting, like-new Noisless Portable when you happen to find old typewriters as charming as I do.

For my part, I think this odd little subject is a good lesson in thinking a little more about the source behind the symbol.

Moleskine tab hack

In order to get over my aforementioned hesitation to sully a brand-new Moleskine notebook, I decided to customize this one with a Moleskine tab hack, and some random, glue-sticked decor on the front cover.

Seems to make it a little less intimidating. If you have received one of these notebooks, I would recommend that you consider customizations at once, just to get the content rolling. Otherwise, I think we both know the thing might end up sitting in your bookshelf for a decade, with some half-baked writing on the first page.

Note to tab hackers: if you are installing tabs on the top edge of the notebook, do not install them in the way of the elastic band. I made this mistake, and so what you actually see here in this illustration is tab hack 2.0.

Papercast: Tape dispenser