High, Concept

For as long as it lasts, here's the exhibit in question, but a quick interwebs search can find you information about numerous concept cars, including ones that should have been in my toy car collection, if oil embargoes hadn't spoiled everyone's fun.

Typed on a 1952 Smith-Corona Skyriter

Auditions: An Old Friend

I'm not even going to bother apologizing for the typos here. The only negative I'll say about the Skyriter is that it wants to skip space a bit when it's not being held level, say, when it's being used in a lap, as I did. I suspect this is also like my Royals, which want a more even typing style than I usually use on the computer.

Looks like the return issue on typer #2 is the bell tang getting caught on the right margin stop. I'll have to compare the two and see if something is out of place. This is why everyone should own two of everything!

Typed on Smith-Corona Skyriters from:

1952


1957


PDF scan of the Skyriter manual shown

Nor-Cal Mini Type-In

Dedicated followers of the Typosphere know that for a while, I seemed to be the only California-based typecaster out there (or at least the only one willing to blog about it.) Cameron of Living in the Woods joined up this year, and when he said he'd be nearby, we arranged for the First Ever Type-In of the Northern California Branch of the Typosphere. We met today for lunch and typing, and some inspection of a couple of sick machines in Cameron's care: an Olympia SM3 with more than the usual amount of smooshed bushings, and a de-badged Olivetti with a loose top, letting me at last tell a fellow typecaster that he had a few screws loose.

My original meeting place of a coffee shop was passed up for the far larger table space in the adjoining courtyard: the same place where I filmed my one-man Typewriter Day celebration. Whether it was the sight of the mighty spread of machines (five between the two of us) or the the music of the typing as it echoed around the court, we talked with several passers-by about typewriters, the 'sphere, and this crazy thing of blogging on a typewriter and fielded many questions from an over-friendly security guard asking the worth of his old Underwood portable. Sigh. Note to graphic designers: we need to start passing out business cards with the Typosphere URL on it. Seriously.

As always, the live-typing seems incomplete compared to the amount of actual socializing we managed to squeeze into my lunch hour: Cameron did more typing than I did, as I got to look over the problem machines he brought along. I'm rather camera-shy, and didn't want to put Cameron on the spot by taking his picture, so you'll have to settle for my typecast and these photos, and imagine two dashing gentlemen typing away on a pleasant sunny day.

Cameron brought a Tippa at my request, and it's a cool little machine. I have a real soft spot for travel-size typewriters, and this one is very full-featured and well built. A little skip-prone with a "soft" left margin, but a fine machine nonetheless. Plus, it came with the manual and a load of accessories, including a ruler with which I demonstrated the magic "Olympia elite" typeface (11 characters per inch.) Touch control? I forgot to look this one up. But there's a clever "stencil" knob on the right-hand side. Both are features I haven't seen on a travel machine before. Love the plastic eraser shield that was in the case. Just outstanding. No space is wasted: a place to file everything. And leather! Not cheap vinyl. The back of Cameron's sick SM3. I took this to check against my own machines, which are newer. The other patient: a $5 Olivetti with a little rust and a loose top. Four screws will fix the top, cleaning is needed for the guts, and some Liquid Wrench or other penetrating oil is needed to loosen one of the spool nuts. It's just a Valentine, without the $200 plastic trash can attached. My view of the proceedings. Clockwise from lower left: Tippa, Skyriter, Baby, SM3, and Olivetti, hiding under the stack of lids. Cameron's view. Note the pile of smooshed bushings to the left of the Olympia. Kids! Always check your rubber. (ahem) Even the Nano Rhino got into the act, coming out at the promise of a meal. Cameron's joining the Typewriter Brigade for his first ever NaNoWriMo this year. What about you?

Skyriter Manual Scan

Requested by someone on an older post, here's a greyscale PDF scan of the manual from a Smith-Corona Skyriter circa mid-1950s.

Smug

Today was a difficult day: my lunch was interrupted by a minor crisis, and while fixing that, was interrupted by another more major crisis, the two of which conspired to keep me away from my afternoon NaNoWriMo session. I'd been especially looking forward to this one, as I'd literally been on my feet all day -- I'm using a new standing desk, and am in the adjustment period where my back is happy but my feet are protesting. Sitting in a padded chair for forty-five minutes in the middle of the day sounded pretty damn good. But instead what I got was a gulped-down lunch and two hours mired in the depths of financial software. By the time the fog lifted, it was too late to skulk away with the Skyriter under the arm.

This made me bitter.

And then the lights went out.

For the second time in a month, we lost power to our building, and after the wails of despair died down ("I didn't save!") and casual conversation broke out in the hall, I realized that life had turned my lemony day into novel-ade. Out came the typing pad and the Skyriter, and for the next forty-five minutes or so, I typed by the fading daylight, boosting up the word count. Someone even stopped by and jokingly suggested that I hand out spare machines to anyone needing to finish up their work. I said, "I am doing work!"

This made me smug.



I took the sudden work stoppage as a sign that Dramatic Action was called for in the novel, too. I've been languishing a bit, wallowing in the flabby and ill-defined section in the middle of my outline. When the lights went out in the office, though, the lights came on in my brain, and whether it was the unexpected opportunity of a writing session, or the endorphin rush from finally sitting down, I think I've got a title for the story, and even a decent synopsis I can put up on the site.

Very smug indeed.

Your Arsenal

For Twitterites, there's a #DailyArsenal hashtag and a corresponding flickr group, highlighting what's in your writing/creating space for the day. Although it's not limited to NaNoWriMo, you can still use it as a way to do a little shameless self-promotion. I arranged my afternoon-writing setup and took a quick photo before heading down to the building lobby to type.

At the risk of sounding like a hokey credit card commercial, what's in your arsenal?

The Autumn Ujtu

Typed on my 1952 Skyriter:

Schooling, Part 2, and Choices (OCR test)

Into the Labyrinth

Numerous typos left intact for maximum hilarity. Typed on a 1952 Skyriter.

Big Value, Small Package

Sorry for the half-letters. This is the ribbon found with the machine, and the vibrator and some of the keys still require some de-gunking. I'd also like to note that the iPhone comes with no user-serviceable parts.

Stealthy shutterbuggery

• Introducing the Olympus Pen
• Argust 8 page and past entries at flickr
  
• Flickr 888
  

The call of the small

Non-smoking section

I've no doubt that luck has been on my side with the condition of the typewriters I've found so far. Now that I've passed the early acquisition phase of the collection, I can feel a bit more confident about discriminating between machines I really want, and those that I can just pass by. I'd made a promise to myself that I would stick to getting machines locally, since I've heard too many eBay horror stories to recount, usually around sellers who toss the typewriter in an old shirt box with a whiff of newspaper padding, and then express shock when it shows up looking like it had been gored. All the same, I could not pass up the $5 Smith-Corona Skyriter I spotted at shopgoodwill.com. I fudged my promise, since it was located in Oregon, which borders California, which means it's "local" (so goes my reasoning) and with the Skyriter being a travel machine, I expected shipping to be more reasonable than some of the other machines located in Minnesota or Florida. It was, and I paid less in total that I have for most of those typers I've gotten from my local Goodwill. Factor in gas prices -- nearly $5/gallon here now -- and so how could I say no?

It arrived well-packed and padded, and the carton made no unpleasant rattling sounds. After unwrapping its many layers of bubble wrap, the unmistakable smell of cheap cigarettes rose into the air. Ugh. Aside from the usual dusty/eraser-bit neglect and a top lid that was not fastened on properly, the soundproofing and all soft surfaces reeked of a heavy smoker. California is a very smoker-hostile place, banning it from all public buildings and a certain distance from their entrances. I've forgotten how much I don't notice the smell of cigarettes any more until I travel back to visit my family, and am asked "smoking or non-smoking, hun?"

I'm not going to turn this into a screed against smoking or smokers, but I will say that it's nasty getting that out of a typewriter. Thankfully, Skyriter cases literally slip off, giving full access to the innards and the inside of the case. A few days airing in the garage, careful and generous application of Febreeze and some time in the sun and the Skyriter smells like a typewriter again, not like an ashtray. There's still some amber goo in one corner, which I'm hoping is just a spilled beverage from ages past, and not tar-thickened sputum (apologies if you are eating while reading this.) Goo Gone is barely touching it, but it's not on any mechanisms, so I think we're safe.

Of course now I'm unable to savor the new non-smell of the machine, as the Bay Area is socked in with wildfire smoke from the numerous surrounding fires. It looks to be a bad year for them, and the thickening haze outside and campfire odor everywhere do nothing to convince me that the air will be clear again soon. I hope it does, because I'd like to take this little guy out for a proper typing debut, now that he's kicked the habit.

• California fires map