Interrobang key on typewriters‽

I recently stumbled onto a Web site describing the defunct interrobang, an exclamation point-question mark hybrid that had a brief life in the latter part of the 20th century.

The site claims that this curiosity, sort of the Esperanto of punctuation, actually appeared on the Remington Rand in 1968, about which Remington said "[its inclusion] expresses Modern Life's Incredibility." Wikipedia alleges that interrobang keycaps could be found for Smith-Coronas in this time period as well. It must be true; even some keycutting jewelery makers feature interrobang pendants.

Including an interrobang key on a typewriter seems a little silly; even one of my typewriters, I think the Royal Signet, expects me to type an apostrophe, backspace, and type a period to get the plain old exclamation point. Any of us modern day typists armed with a backspace key could create an interrobang in two keystrokes (although this link explains how you can also type one using Microsoft Word Wingdings 2).

eBay makes no mention of this mythical interrobang Remington Rand model from 1968. If anyone has one, send me a picture.

The cult of clicky keyboards

Hiatus: over. Strikethru is back!

Moving on, I recently decided to delve into the cultish world of retro, Model M "clicky" computer keyboards based on a recommendation shared on The Portable Typewriter Forum, claiming that using one was similar to the feel of typing away on an old IBM Selectric. Now, I'm not a huge electric typewriter fan although I used to love the one I used in college-- auto-correct! Automatic carriage return! (As a side note, here is a pictoral timeline of IBM electric models.) But that said, I'm game to try anything that will bring some old time luster back to the mandatory hours at the computer required of someone in my profession (I am a technical writer).

And so, I braved the eBay waters and ordered a refurbished, serial port Lexmark 42H1292 from 1995. (There appears to be some debate on the interwebz about whether the 1391401 or the 42H1292 is actually the "one true keyboard," and I'll be damned if I know. I just sort of threw a dart and decided to go with the 42H1292.) I know I am now saddled with finding the right serial port adapter lying around my office (this is not as straightforward of an experience when dealing with retro keyboards as you might assume) before I can get the darned thing up and running, but I can attest that, with the keyboard unplugged and lying on the living room floor, my toddler and I had fun pressing the keys and listening to that old time industrious sound, the clock-clock-clock of the buckling spring keyswitch mechanism.

These keyboards are fairly cheap and widely available today; they are still sold by pckeyboard.com (which unironically presents a 1997-looking Web site) with USB plugs and other modern era accomodations. I'd say that the modern writer in search of the typewriting experience consider checking it out.

Stay tuned for my full review once I have the thing hooked up at work.

Update I was able to get the 42H1292 up and running using an Adesso USB adaptor, which I think has a converter chip in it. (The little hokey adaptors with just a cable between the adaptor plugs definitely didn't cut it.) May I add that if you are going to get one of the older used M series keyboards, consider a refurbished one-- it's nice not to encounter someone's Debbie Cake crumbs from '95 in between my keys.

I'm happy to report that using this keyboard almost approximates that old time Selectric experience, with the brisk, bouncy keys and the springly clicks. Perhaps the only person displeased with my purchase might be my officemate, who now has to listen to me typing all day.

More links (or as one Web page called it, "Model M prOnz")

* Care and feeding of a Model M keyboard

* Model M - a random review

* IBM 42H1292 and 1391401 keyboards

Offline

Strikethru plans to go offline for a very brief spell due to prior commitments, but shall soon find itself back online, posting about non-digital subjects of interest (or indifference). Stay tuned.

"The pursuit of the cartridge": back-dated media formats

One major drawback for the novice fan of defunct communication forms is the pursuit of the cartridge. By this I mean, that elusive, no-longer-manufactured typewriter ribbon for your Corona three-bank, or, in the case of old cameras, the need to cram yourself into a lightless closet and re-roll an available film format onto a dusty old 616 spool salvaged from a junk store, using a confusing procedure you found on the Internet.

Even for those cartridge types still available for our favored old machines (a strangely broad array of typewriter ribbons is still made, for example) there is the art of figuring out what in hell size or type you really need. Basically, you just need to ask people who know about these things, who will rightly regard you as a rube. "What sort of fool would shoot true black and white and not develop it themselves! Just set up a dark room in your trunk!" "C-41 is a grainless joke!" are just a few of the warnings I've heard on the 'webs about the deeply confusing world of black and white print films-- and these comments at least pertain to film that is still manufactured- plenty of retro cameras take film that isn't. Fortunately at the very least, the box camera I caved and purchased does take 120 film, but then there is the not-small matter of loading it. Let's not even talk about the risks of exposing rolls by loading them wrong, or the cost of processing unusual film formats at fancy camera stores.

What have I gotten myself into in pursuit of a little retro imagery?

Film cameras... when was the last time you used one?

Today I dragged out the old tangle of Canon snapshot cameras we have in a forgotten drawer, loaded with half-shot rolls of 35mm, and tried to remember exactly when I last used an actual film camera. It was a long time ago. When I moved on to digital, I did not look back. What's not to like about instant results? No trip to the photomat? No stack of blurry, wasted shots to throw away?

Photography has never appealed to me. It takes two things at which I have zero ability, visual artistry and chemistry, and combines them in an expensive, Byzantine pastime focused on surface impressions. It is the anti-written word. And yet, those rare experiments I once tried with black and white film and an old Canon Sure Shot became photographs I've looked at more than several times over the years. Black and white photography in general just doesn't seem to quite translate to the digital format. I have no idea why; I am sure there is a theorem that explains.

And so, I plan to untangle one of these rattletrap point-and-shoot cameras from the snarl of lanyards in the drawer, track down some black and white film, and take a few old-school shots of some random items around the house... typewriters, perhaps?

Brownie camera

I am a little too young (which is to say, not very young) to remember the Brownie camera, although it is mentioned in all manner of novels and such set in the 20th century.

Completely lacking photographic skills in every possible way (I even look bad in pictures), I have never taken to being interested in photography as a hobby, but there is something irresistibly populist about this $1 everyman camera, and its otherworldly, claustrophobic snapshots. I had better be very careful to avoid eBay while this subject is front of mind.

More old pictures...

Update: It's good that I kept reading about this, because it discouraged me from thinking seriously about acquiring one. Why? Well, anyone who knows anything about cameras knows that photography is one of the most complex, layered, technical subjects in the history of earth. From the skill to the equipment to the process, you have to have bottomless pockets, talent, and training to make anything out of picture taking beyond point-and-shoot. Now of course the Brownie cameras was the original icon of point and shoot, created expressly for the budget and use of the clueless millions. But that was in 19-something, when random film formats were readily available. These days, using a Brownie camera with modern print film formats (120 or 35mm) requires hand-whittling film spool spacers, or re-winding film onto salvaged spools from defunct formats in that spare darkroom you happen to have lying around next to your racquetball court and bomb shelter. In other words, you need to be a deeply invested camera nerd to bother. Apparently there *are* some random Brownie models that take the still-existing 120 film format, including the Brownie #2 and the Cresta, but I am sure this is not as straightforward as it sounds. Who develops this film? Surely there is something weird I am supposed to do in 'my darkroom'.

Perhaps it is time to just drag out the old 1970's 35mm Minolta in the hall closet and take a few snapshots...

Embroidered Smith-Corona and Underwood typewriters

You really must take a look at this embroidered Smith-Corona. Incredible. Even more incredible? The embroidered Underwood.

I mean, wow. Here is a whole set of embroidered objects. This person is seriously talented.

Typecast: Musings on The Typing Explosion and typewriter performance art

Typewriter performance art: The Typing Explosion

As a typewriter fan, you seldom if ever actually encounter other people using typewriters in public. There aren't really typewriter conventions that I am aware of, and you certainly aren't likely to see people kicking back at a local Starbucks with a Smith Corona Deville, banging out the great American novel. It's a virtual hobby at best, where you might trip over the stray interweb enthusiast, or that random Geocities encyclopedic page about a certain model or brand.

There was however at least one typewriter performance art group, The Typing Explosion, three Seattle women who produced poetry at on-the-fly live performances. Sounds like they retired in 2004, with a brief reunion tour in '06, and so it is too late for today's typewriterophile to stop in and pay $1 for a typewritten poem and the privilege of seeing it produced by an actual typewriter in front of their eyes.

Darn!

The Oliver Standard Visible Typewriter

Oh, man. I said I was going to stop collecting at three typewriters. Now I have five. Problem is, there are so many models to ponder. Once you tire of admiring the sleek, style-conscious Olivetti 22, you can zoom backwards in time and covet a contraption that in my opinion looks like a cross between a Wright Brothers plane and an art deco ashtray, the Oliver Standard Visible Typewriter.

I first saw one of these in person when I went to have my Royal Signet repaired. There it was, spidery and elegant, looking like a bird skeleton, displayed in a glass case surrounded by Blicksensderfers (which look like George Washington's wooden teeth). On first glance, I had no idea how the Oliver even worked. Fortunately this site contains an animation illustrating its non-standard typebar action. And yet, I would still like the chance to try one out for myself.

I've been poking around on an Oliver eBay store, (a whole eBay store devoted to these odd ducks?), which is a dangerous minefield loaded with Buy Now buttons, and winged, refurbished Olivers looking for new whack-job collectors to live with.

Here is a visual guide to the differences between various Oliver standard models... and in fact, here are some other nerdy links I came across...

* The coolest typewriter ad ever
* Postcard of the Oliver typewriter factory
* Oliver #9 sticker
* Most excellent Oliver ad (I love how old typewriter ads paint a bleak future for those hesitating to buy the latest model: "People are abandoning the slow, tiring task of long hand-writing. How long are you going to cling to it, in this world of advancement?")

Blue Moon Camera has list of typewriters for sale

I checked out the Blue Moon Camera and Machine Web site today, and noticed they have typewriters available under the link inventory --> machines.

Take a look if you are interested to see which refurbished machines they have for sale.

Thoughts on Nanowrimo and typewriters

For those of you interested in the possibility of tackling Nanowrimo using a typewriter, I found this essay discussing one author's failed attempts to use a typewriter for this purpose.

He has a point. It *does* slow you down. Now, I have written hundreds of pages of bad fan fiction as a teenager using a Smith-Corona Galaxie Twelve, so I am not afraid of writing reams of lousy prose on a manual contraption. That said, I did it in my own time. Typewriting does require a certain sequential exactitude to pull off: each typebar has to return to its position of repose before the next one strikes. Button-mashers need not apply. Anyone with no recent experience typewriting always immediately experiences type-bar pileup when they try to type a sentence, caused by years of machine-gun keystrokes on mushy rubber keyboards. The tidy deliberate way you're forced to write on a typewriter, at the speed where you can and do spell out words in your head, is somehow at odds with a rapid-fire creative flow, once you are used to the latter way.

Does this mean that we modern types who set out to tackle 50,000 words in 30 days with some old rattling Olivetti are setting ourselves up for an undoable task?

Likely it does. And yet, we will still try to climb it, because it is there.

Typecast: Nanowrimo 2007

How to find a manual typewriter, part 6: Antique stores

I read online somewhere awhile back that antique stores were a stupid place to look for typewriters. This source claimed that any typewriter you'd find in an antique store would be overvalued by antique sellers, who earn a handsome living off of drastic, unwarranted markups on dead people's ex-belongings. So I stayed away. Who wants to go shopping in what is essentially a garage sale staffed by cunning salespeople well-versed in the value of elderly objects?

Someone at work mentioned there were a "few old typewriters" at an antique store in a certain part of my home city, and so, finding myself recently in that part of town last Saturday, I casually suggested to my companions that we stop by after lunch. Knowing that my typewriter limit of three was currently exceeded by one, much eye-rolling ensued, but they accompanied me nonetheless.

I had not before noticed this antique store, as its formerly immediate neighbor was a sordidly-named food stand known as "The Fun Hole," which always caused me to stop, laugh, and keep walking. The antique store has apparently been around for many years, however, and it contained at least three typewriters, one of them the exact Olympia SM 9 typewriter that I currently own, looking to be in swell condition, and going for drastically less than I bought it from a reseller for a few months ago. In addition to this, there were two older models, and Underwood of some kind (I didn't look that closely-- I'm not really an Underwood kind of gal), and a 1941 Royal Quiet De Luxe.

Now anyone who knows anything about typewriters knows the hype around the Royal Quiet De Luxe, the "Hemingway typewriter," bla bla bla. Anyone who collects typewriters has one of these, in all likelihood, but thus far my modest and already excessive collection generally focused on the 60's or thereabouts, and anyway, the older typewriters are a little more expensive and seem like Sherman tanks.

Well, as it happens, this Royal was in really great shape. It gleamed. All the logos looked like they had just been painted on. It had a new ribbon in it, and typed like a champ. Somehow I thought that the old pre-war glass-key machines were just for some old corporate codger to display on a shelf in his office, and weren't really intended for actual use. But this one worked great. It was also small. Very stylish. It even still had the key for the case, and the little cleaning brush, which you just don't see with used typewriters very much, as far as I can tell. Best part? It was selling for a reasonable, two-digit price. "Number five," chanted one of my companions, referring to this typewriter's potential order in my inappropriately growing collection. "Do it!" chided the husband. A third companion shot me a goading, buy-it-now look over the rungs of an old wooden chair. I started to hear the drums of typewriter collecting that one hears faintly when about to click Bid Now! on eBay, and before I knew what happened, I heard myself say, "I'll take the Royal."

Here are pictures of typewriter #5, Royal Quiet De Luxe.

Pros of antique store:

* Prices might not be as bad as you think
* They'll make an attempt to clean it up, maybe
* Probably they are only going to sell typewriters in good condition (but who knows, I am sure this varies widely)
* Can look at kooky old stuff while you shop around
* Could find awesome Royal... you never know.

Cons

* I don't doubt that typewriters are more marked up here than you might find if you were a very savvy shopper and bought one from a rube
* Very limited selection, if they sell them at all
* Might still need to get machine refurbished/oiled/repaired after purchase

Recommendation:

Definitely consider this option. The more I try other options, the more I realize that reseller prices (as in, internet resellers like mytypewriter.com) are way too expensive.


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

Typewriter review: Olympia SM 9

As I've mentioned in the past, I recently bought an Olympia SM 9, due to the various testimonials in web-town trumpeting its unsurpassed might. There's even been a whole coffee-table-style art book devoted to it. How could I say no?

The serial number of my SM 9 is 3383977, placing it in the year 1967, according to "Century of the Typewriter" by Wilfred A. Beeching, and corroborated by this oddly encyclopedic study of Olympia SM 9 production run changes, as my SM 9 has white key tops, a green-capped lever lock, and a silver Olympia logo (note that the later models look quite a bit different). I think all SM 9's have a basket shift (the type basket moves when you shift the keys, as opposed to the carriage. In my opinion, this is a little easier on your hands), but at the very least, mine does.

This model has an 11 pitch (characters per inch) typeface. Allow me to take a moment here to clarify that yes, I am aware that 'triumvirate' is misspelled here in my example, but then isn't this quintessentially typewriteresque? You can't go back and revise.

The SM 9 case is large and vinyl-y, and contains an odd series of clips that secure the typewriter inside. This is where I point out that this is not the smallest portable typewriter in town. I'm going to call it a full-sized portable. So by way of a vague opinion, this might not be the machine for you if you like small portables (in that case, try this Will Davis link about traveling-sized typewriters).

But what you want to know is, was it worth the purchase? I own four typewriters, and thus far, can attest that this particular model has a solid, well-made feel to the typing action. The parts seem very industrial and not cheap. You could easily brain someone with an SM 9. It feels like it could withstand another 100 years of someone typing away on a daily basis. And, it has a nice, stoic 1960's look. I like it, is I suppose what I am getting at. But I will say this. The SM 9 is not a rare model of typewriter, from what I can tell. They are out there. You can usually find several on eBay on any given day (sometimes they are listed as "Olympia De Luxe" (the name De Luxe actually appears in the center of the typebasket, unlike "SM 9" which appears nowhere on the model itself). Look around. I bought mine from a reseller, but for the sake of your budget, you might want to try a different route. (I just saw my exact model and year SM 9 in an antique store for $35, for example).

In conclusion, this typewriter is known to be a well-made, German-engineered classic, and has been used by many authors. I'd like to know why the SM 9 is supposed to be better than other typewriters in the SM line (e.g., the SM 7), but that sort of comparative information is scarce on the web), but other than that, I would surely recommend it as a reliable and classic full-sized portable. Just watch your budget when shopping for one.

Update Ok, six months later, I finally uploaded the SM 9 manual here.

Papercasting: paper e-mail and the pro-con list

This week I visited San Francisco, and happened into one of those stores that sells cool young-person junk, you know the stores, skull-themed messenger bags and crass double-entendre bumper stickers and bobblehead dolls from 70's cartoons?

In said store, I found several products that could prove useful to the paper blogger and other fans of offline communication, made by a company called Knock Knock. Had I found the Paper E-mail Form, I would have purchased it immediately. As it stood, I had to make do with the Pro Con List:

How to find a manual typewriter, part 5: eBay

Update Well, here I go and say all of these nice things about eBay, and then the margin-set bar falls off this typewriter in a hail of microscopic washers and screws after I used it for 30 minutes.

* * *

It's odd that I should get around to discussing eBay so late in the How to find a manual typewriter series. I'm sure it's the top tactic the average typewriting Joe would employ. What's not to love, right? Cheap, wide selection. If you haven't already, march right over to eBay, enter "typewriter," and behold the thousand results. eBay is the magic trap door through which countless attic typewriters find their way back into circulation each day.

However, people who collect typewriters in a serious kind of way issue a number of cautions to the neophyte buyer. Mr. Typewriter and Will Davis warn against various eBay hazards, which include padded shipping costs, inaccurate/inexpert assessment of condition, and poor packing resulting in shipping damage. To that I would like to add, the typewriter will almost always arrive needing to be cleaned and oiled, and will probably not be in top working condition, as you'd expect from a reseller, in which case you may find yourself paying extra to have it refurbished (which could bring the total cost up to that of just buying it from a reseller), or attempting to do it yourself.

I'm not really an eBay person in general, and so probably not the best person to review the pros and cons of going this route, but I did choose to exceed my lifetime cap on typewriters just so I could complete this series with an actual eBay anecdote. As told in the story I just linked to, I was browsing eBay and happened across a typewriter that strangely fascinates me, the orange Olympia Traveller De Luxe. It seemed to embody a certain 70's aesthetic that I cound not resist, and so I braved the eBay waters, since the seller had a good seller rating, and a lot of prior business.

This particular typewriter was declared to be in excellent condition (and looked it from the photographs), and the buyer promised to abide by the packing instructions suggested on a Will Davis site. Lastly, the shipping cost was reasonable, as was the fixed price (listed in an eBay store, not an auction). And so I decided to take the chance.

The typewriter was shipped from the wilds of Eastern Canada, and thus took two weeks to arrive. However, It was indeed clean and in fine working condition upon receipt. It seems a little sticky - probably needs oil, definitely some dust in there- but seems free of mechanical or aesthetic defects of any kind. It's almost strangely new-looking.

Pros of buying a typewriter on eBay:

* Price, assuming you are not a chump and don't overbid or choose an overpriced typewriter

* Selection. Anything you want is probably out there, right now, for sale.

Cons:

Already mentioned most of the cons- it's going to arrive needing cleaning or oiling. You might get shafted by a lousy seller. It could be broken. It could be in crappy condition. In other words, it's a crapshoot.

Recommendation:

Assuming you follow the proper precautions and have some sort of plan to deal with cleaning and oiling your machine, why not?

Postscript:


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