For several weeks now, Glo has been begging me to get out my typewriter. Yes, I still have my good old Royal Alpha 600p from college. It's from back in the day when word processors were just starting to be used, but every college student had a typewriter. In fact, every college had a large lounge area where those of us who were pulling all nighters would stay up typing (so that we didn't wake our roommates with the clack, clack, clack of the typewriter keys hitting the paper). John went down and found it within minutes.
At first, the thing didn't work. The ribbon IS 20 years old, afterall, and the wheel which types the letters was misaligned. However, after some maneuvering (and recalling things from 20+ years ago), I got it working. It proved endlessly fascinating to the family, until 3 days later the ribbon ran out.
I thought for sure that I would need to order the ribbon and pay an arm and a leg for it (if it even existed). However, I found the exact cartridge at our local Staples. Unbelievable! Something obsolete found in State College? Wow.
Anyway, I have left the typewriter out on the counter, and I think it should definitely be the basis for some kind of social experiment. My kids have never spent so much time, creatively writing down their thoughts. We leave paper in the thing, and the stories that have crept on that paper have been unbelievable. Just short stories, and short thoughts from the days, but wonderful. It takes but a few minutes for a page to be filled, and only days for four pages to be completed so that I can package up the thoughts and send them onto Ethan. Again, I say that the sound of the letters hitting the paper, and actually needing to hit the "return" key has proved endlessly fascinating to all involved. The computer can't hold a candle to this ancient artifact.
When I asked John if he would like to write something, stress immediately passed across his face. The typewriter was definitely his nemesis in college, and I was frequently found typing up 20 page essays (written in Spanish in his unreadable handwriting). He actually had to pull over a stool, take a deep breath, and get his fingers in the "asdf jkl;" form. It was inspiring to see how much the computer age has helped him learn to be a better typist, although he admitted that he was having flashbacks to the time he had to take a typing test in order to qualify for certain jobs back in Provo.
Anyway, I strongly encourage anyone who has a typewriter sitting in their attic or basement to pull it out and see what happens. It's a beautiful thing.
At first, the thing didn't work. The ribbon IS 20 years old, afterall, and the wheel which types the letters was misaligned. However, after some maneuvering (and recalling things from 20+ years ago), I got it working. It proved endlessly fascinating to the family, until 3 days later the ribbon ran out.
I thought for sure that I would need to order the ribbon and pay an arm and a leg for it (if it even existed). However, I found the exact cartridge at our local Staples. Unbelievable! Something obsolete found in State College? Wow.
Anyway, I have left the typewriter out on the counter, and I think it should definitely be the basis for some kind of social experiment. My kids have never spent so much time, creatively writing down their thoughts. We leave paper in the thing, and the stories that have crept on that paper have been unbelievable. Just short stories, and short thoughts from the days, but wonderful. It takes but a few minutes for a page to be filled, and only days for four pages to be completed so that I can package up the thoughts and send them onto Ethan. Again, I say that the sound of the letters hitting the paper, and actually needing to hit the "return" key has proved endlessly fascinating to all involved. The computer can't hold a candle to this ancient artifact.
When I asked John if he would like to write something, stress immediately passed across his face. The typewriter was definitely his nemesis in college, and I was frequently found typing up 20 page essays (written in Spanish in his unreadable handwriting). He actually had to pull over a stool, take a deep breath, and get his fingers in the "asdf jkl;" form. It was inspiring to see how much the computer age has helped him learn to be a better typist, although he admitted that he was having flashbacks to the time he had to take a typing test in order to qualify for certain jobs back in Provo.
Anyway, I strongly encourage anyone who has a typewriter sitting in their attic or basement to pull it out and see what happens. It's a beautiful thing.
I learned to type on a typewriter in high school but since then it's been all computers. I wish we had an old typewriter hanging around somewhere; it would be interesting to see what gets written.
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