My Newfangled Twitter Machine
My quest for an old typewriter is over.
I had combed flea markets, yard sales and antique stores, where I saw typewriter remnants, Selectrics, boxes of typewriter ribbons, rusted typing tables, etc. Last weekend, the owner of a flea market barn told me he sold old typewriters to scrap metal yards and had just unloaded several two weeks ago. My heart fell. I nearly cried. On Sunday, my husband and I went to a flea market, where he spied this Royal manual typewriter on a table filled with odds and ends–a toy stuffed animal that looked so worn I mistook it for roadkill, cassette tape recorders, a variety of self-help books, rusted tools. The typewriter had dried specks of Wite-Out all over it, plus dust and cobwebs.
First thing Monday, I took it to a typewriter shop. The owner treated my typewriter like a precious object. Tom replaced the dried out rubber rollers, fixed the margins, cleaned it, changed the ribbon and showed it a lot of love. He called my Royal typewriter “the tank of typewriters,” saying this popular 1940′s model was known for its indestructibility. Today, I tested it at the store before I left. I can’t remember the last time I used a typewriter. When I got to the end of the first line, I kept typing, letter on letter. Tom reminded me that I needed to use the manual return. Woops!
Here’s my new pride and joy:
1940's Royal typewriter, model KMM (copyright 2009 Delia K. Cabe)
I suspect that my hunt is only beginning. I could get hooked into searching for another. So many typewriters are beauties. One of the places I checked out on the Interwebs is the Virtual Typewriter Museum, just to drool.
