The Slippery Slope ...

I'd been driving myself crazy trying to sort out my entries in The Typewriter Database for my nearly twin Olympia SM9s, confusing the serial numbers, their dates of manufacture, and mixing up which one was pica and which elite.  I finally sat them down side by side on my office couch for a direct comparison and eventually worked it out that the 1972 machine has the smaller elite typeface, while the twin born six years later in 1978 uses pica. OK, fine, but seeing them together revealed some other, more subtle, while at the same time perhaps more significant differences.

Now, whining is something one does not normally relate with talk about the SM9, so prepare yourself.

(Almost) Twin Olympia SM9s

1972 Olympia SM9

1978 Olympia SM9

Above is the 1978 pica version of my 1972 elite SM9. Still a fine typer, but there are a couple of changes from the 1972 version. The unnecessary but lovely machined swirl pattern on the paper support is gone. Gone also is the red paint on the casting of the key lever pivot support bar. Unnecessary embellishments but they gave a special bonus touch, exhibiting a bit of corporate pride in the machine, and retained from the design going way back to my 1957 SM3. I noticed and appreciated those enhancements even as a pimply high school adolescent. Gone, too, is the handy, white-capped carriage lock lever. By 1978 it has become an unattractive and somewhat unpleasant-to-the-touch lever sticking out from under the left end of the carriage. Obviously all of those 1972 features added to the cost of manufacture while doing nothing for the touch or typing quality. 

Yes, still a very fine machine, and if I had to place my life in a wheelbarrow to flee a burning house both would likely be in it. But are these subtle signs of the beginning of a worldwide corporate slide away from pride in quality and integrity towards avarice and greed?

No, of course not, I'm just a cranky old curmudgeon this evening.

You Loose Some, You Win Some

What's wrong with this listing ...

Yep - only two feedback ratings and a feedback score of only 75%! Guess I was blinded by the lovely cerulean blue of this Smith Corona, thinking a grandchild might enjoy it, and didn't notice that rating. When it arrived today playing peekaboo through its flimsy cardboard box things did not bode well.

And as the unboxing continued, things just got worse ...

I will request my $59.42 back from this seller, but don't anticipate even getting a response (But see the addendum at the bottom of this post!). So what did I learn from this purchase?

1. Of course, read the whole listing. Don't buy from sellers with low feedback response or score.
2. When paying for the item send an email to the seller with a friendly note requesting them to pack it carefully. Multiple layers of bubble wrap, at 90 degrees to each other, building a cocoon at least four inches thick, placed in a nest of styro peanuts or similar of at least four inches all around inside a sturdy carton, is simple and does the job. Then thank the seller for reading the note, saying how I am looking forward to adding the machine to my collection, It's worked before.

Overall, my experience with eBay has been good. I've received no machines in a condition other than what I expected from carefully looking at the photos and reading between the lines of the description. Of the 30 or so machines (please don't tell my wife) that have arrived, only two were damaged in shipping, and one of them is repairable. But not this one, unfortunately. If anyone needs a Coronet Super 12 for parts, just let me know!

And now for the winner. One of my granddaughters is a writer, in her second year of working toward a degree in marketing. She lit up like the sun when I asked if she might be interested in having and using a typewriter. She even gets it about editing hardcopy away from the distraction of the computer. My quest for a suitable machine resulted in this treasure which also arrived today:

A twin to the Hermes Rocket that I use as an RV typer, it arrived in beautiful shape, thanks to careful packing by the folks at Seattle Goodwill - it even included a fresh ribbon. A clean up of the case and the body with a bit of Scrubbing Bubbles was all it needed. There will be no incarceration in the dungeon for this little beauty, which will go out into the world to help seed a love for these machines in a new generation.
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Addendum

Contrary to my pessimistic expectations, the seller of the unfortunate blue Coronet provided a refund the same day I requested it, for the total amount of the item plus my shipping cost. This is a reminder that I must add a third tip for purchasing via eBay:

3. eBay sellers are, for the most part, well intentioned, and do not purposely try to cheat or mislead. This basic quality of human nature is supported and encouraged by the eBay feedback mechanism. Straightforward and friendly communication is an important part in eliciting that positive human quality.

Not a Junker: There's hope in this Remington Rand No. 5

Most, if not all, of the blogs I have read with photos of typewriters, at least those that the blogger admits to having paid money for and taken home to incorporate into their household, are of pristine and polished museum-ready machines, that function, if not perfectly, at least with minimal quirks. Same here.

Now for a change of pace.

Rummage sale items at the Nevada County Narrow Gauge Railroad Museum.
Like the arrangement of a fish trap entry, items for sale are carefully arranged to lead the browser to his doom. Quiet spoken and disarming, elderly museum volunteers are cleverly deployed to soften the defenses of the most hardened rummage sale shopper.

On the pleasant drive to the sale through our "rollin', golden hills of California", I told myself that $20 was my limit, and that I definitely did not need another typewriter. I'd even purposely made a pass through our cluttered garage earlier to ink in the note-to-self that no more stuff, especially in the typewriter category, was needed.

The main point of the expedition was to have a visit with my uncle Don, a volunteer at the museum, and just get out of the house for a bit. But once at the sale I automatically veered past the one typewriter for sale. Although an ugly grunge pit, with sticky keys and snapped carriage draw-string, it did appear redeemable. But I have plenty of redeemable typewriters in the dungeon. So, taking myself in hand, I walked on to look at children's books and lamps, where I found at $5 a steal of a craft lamp that would be good for redeeming typewriters. At the cashier the tab was still less than $10. But suddenly the gremlin that sits on my shoulder took control of my tongue, and made mumble, "would you take $10 for the typewriter". The cashier said, "Yes!" with the reflex of a fisherman setting the hook, and even gave me a cardboard box to take the thing home in.

At home on the work bench, in all its grungy glory

There is some light corrosion (let's not use the r-word), but most of its issues - sticky keys, stiff platten - are likely due to a build-up of crud, and should clear up with a good bath.

A test application of the universal cleaning solvent (saliva) reveals this to be the case with the key tops.

Things don't look too bad down here.

These typebars are destined to once again produce that wonderful thwackety-wack - I do believe it, I do, I do.

Tippa, T-Shirt, and Grandpa Toners

Grandpa Toners in his happy place sporting his new Corona 3 T-shirt, a Triumph Tippa, and a photo of granddaughter Hannah

My happy place is particularly cheerful today. Yesterday, while still in the afterglow of receiving that lovely Olympia SM-9, Another package arrived, which revealed, once the many layers of bubble wrap had been unwound, a lovely Triumph Tippa. Then yesterday's mail included a fine T-shirt featuring a red Corona No. 3 from the artist L A Marler. Finally, and best of all, this morning's email brought a note from a daughter in Colorado with a delightful photo of my dancer granddaughter Hannah, perched Tinkerbell-like on the edge of a kitchen counter reading the latest letter from Grandpa Toners. 

It's A Beaut - Olympia SM-9

About That Fawn ...

Can you find the fawn?

The Shih Tzus and I headed out into the garden, me with my Kindle, and they with excited expectations of exploration and new pine cones to chew. But when I had caught up to them they were excited about a deer on the other side of our deer fence. Thank goodness for the sturdiness of the black plastic webbing, because our two doggies are endowed with the bravery bred only of naivete, while the doe was hell bent on destroying them. Fearful for Joey and Buddy, I started heaving stones at the doe. Not my usual greeting to the creatures that share our garden. Surprisingly she barely moved. Puzzled, and fearful for the little dogs, I aimed to hit her, fortunately and comically missing wildly thanks to an arm sprained several weeks ago. Eventually she took off across the meadow to the rear of our house.

We have been in this house with its little half acre of oak-strewn Sierra Nevada foothills for about 30 years. In the beginning there was not much on the slope up behind our home but the native oaks and a patch of vinca or periwinkle perhaps 40 feet in diameter beneath a pair of fig trees. Deer would frequently enjoy resting in the relative coolness there during our hot summer afternoons. Does would bring their fawns there to enjoy the shade and the water available from our little pond. Probably a few generations of deer got to know the place before their numbers increased to the point that their hunger for the developing garden, simple as it was, exceeded their welcome. So the deer fence was installed, nearly encircling the garden, but leaving an opening at the top of the driveway for a little RV to pass through.

Despite its incompleteness, the deer fence is about 80 percent successful - most deer just take the easier route around the outside of the fence to munch on the neighbor's plants. But there are those few who remember the cool afternoons spent with their mother in that delightful oasis, and manage to find the secret entrance. And so it probably was that that doe had come in with her tiny spotted fawn, and then somehow become separated. I realized this when, as I was hustling our doggies into the house, I spied the incredibly tiny fawn, likely no more than hours old, on our little brick patio. My wife actually had to point it out to me, hiding under the fern, completely still, just like its DNA told it too. And just like we have been told, we left it strictly alone, knowing that the mother would come back and find it. And so she did. After a long afternoon of our fretting Hilda happened to look out through the drawn drapes at dusk just as the fawn emerged from the ferns and shrubs to get nuzzled by mom. 

We hope to see them again. The loss of a couple of hydrangea blossoms is nothing compared to the pleasure of seeing deer comfortably bedded down, nearly invisible except for the flicking of their ears above the periwinkle, and with access to water on our hot afternoons. When I look out to see some creature enjoying the coolness of the garden we have grown, or drinking or bathing in our little waterfall we built, I feel that my life is worthwhile, having provided a bit of comfort to at least one of its creatures.

I'll be gettin' to that SM9 ...

Focusing

Sunday, September 1, 2013, 2 pm Art on the Divide Gallery, Georgetown, California

The above would be the opening for my show at our cozy coop art gallery. I've been a member for about a year and a half now, and have grown to love all of the varied personalities in our little group. A group that is dwindling to the point that we fear our ability to keep the doors open. But for now you can still find the "Open" sign on the big door right on Main Street between the firehouse and the American River Inn Thursdays from 11 am until 3 pm, and Fridays through Sundays 10 am until 6 pm.

The cool thing about our group is that it is completely un-stuffy. I have experienced nothing but a willingness to share techniques and encourage other's work. So encouraging that I am planning that my little show as September's Featured Artist will be made up largely, if not completely, of watercolor paintings.

I have a few paintings, childish splashings completed a few decades ago when a daughter and I took a few classes. I'm hoping to fill out the show with some fresh splashings, but keeping to the same childish style, since that is what is comfortable and fun for me. I don't consider them "real" watercolors, in the sense of those painters that seem to get the paints to flow and blend almost magically. Mine are rigid, almost cartoonish, the colors mostly imprisoned behind carefully inked limits.

Today I was able to focus almost 100 percent on completing another painting. Except for the 30 percent of the day spent attending to my day job and fooling my employer once more into thinking that I actually know what I'm doing, the 20 percent of the day spent hacking back the jungle of household entropy, 5 percent feeding and toileting, 10 percent napping, and 5 percent typing a letter to my son on the subject of comparative science fiction literature on a lovely, newly-arrived, Olympia SM9. and 25 percent of the day fretting about a tiny spotted fawn in our garden who temporarilly had lost its mother.
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Did I mention the 25 percent of the day spent on Facebook and typospherical web sites? So you see, finding time for art takes perseverance. In the end, I found constraining the virtuosity of my watercolor endeavor to the level of childish splashing to be no challenge at all.

More on that SM9 next time.