I Want A Typewriter

I've been without a typewriter since around 1981. Lately, I've been thinking about buying one though. A Selectric, in fact.

Partly this is because, in the bad ol' days, a Selectric was the object of my desires. A mere eight to 1200 bucks would bring me one of these elegantly styled, deep blue beasties to sit on my desk. At the time, I couldn't justify anything more expensive than my old Olivetti. But the Selectric? That would be a writing machine. Even the racy lines indicated the pace I could expect to hit.

When visiting a friend's office recently, I found myself punching keys for something to do while she took a long call.

"Today is the first day of the rest of your life," I typed.

As well as a lot of stuff about Quick Brown Foxes.

And something happened inside my hands, and maybe in my heart. Something I'd forgotten about. I could feel the machine respond to me in a way that my computer never has. Something that the subdued "tap tap tap" my computer keyboard produces just can't duplicate.

Every key I hit produced a deep, grunting resonance from deep within the beast, the result of the basic mechanics that computers have moved far beyond. Pretty soon my fingers were flying along, and I could see real words piling up on a piece of paper; not the mere impressions of words that my word processor produces. It brought me back to a time when my working manuscript had a path to the end of the story marked by neat XXXXXXes over unwanted words. Reminded me of a place in history when the c.c. at the bottom of a letter had meaning and the word "carbon" wasn't only used in conjunction with the word "dating."

So I think I'm going to buy a Selectric. Will I actually use it? Be serious! I like creating perfect and maleable copy. The Selectric will probably sit in my studio -- a new home for my toys -- and maybe I'll use it to type the occasional envelope. But what heck: I hear I can get one for around 50 bucks.