Airing out some Olivettis

Origin Story

At the heart of every character is his origin story. Spiderman was bitten by a radioactive spider, Vito Andolini murdered another don and became Don Corleone, Rasputin was an uneducated wanderer who somehow developed powers of healing on his way to becoming the mad monk.


How did you get into typewriters?
How did you become an enthusiast? a collector?

we are all asked this, by our wife/girlfriend/significant other, by other siblings, by our friends or acquiantances, by our parents, by strangers, by each other - other typospherians, by ourselves.

usually my answer is short, followed by some validation. it appears in some form in my "About Me" section and goes something like this: i suppose ive liked and admired typewriters for a long while, even dating back to pre-adolescence and really ramping up during my teen years when i was reading a lot and adored certain authors who wrote their work on typewriters. i loved their look and what they symbolized: creativity and expression. however due to lack of funds or space or realized imagination, i didnt acquire one until now at age 34.

when i look more closely at that answer and investigate it thoroughly in my mind, i discover the circumstance that allowed this thing called the typewriter to be suddenly a physical part of my life.

and for something to manifest itself in a physical form takes movement, action, and reaction.
many things exist in our minds, dirty thoughts, naughty trysts, wishes, wants, desires, healthy or not, selfish, usually more selfish than we'd like to admit to ourselves, and especially keep secret to those who might be abhorred by it or shocked because it doesnt fit their mental construct of who you are. Therefore, a great many things, even if we admit it or not, continues to exist in our minds, in our daydreams, rem sleepdream, or wetdreams, or dreams where we dream we are having a wet dream. in our minds, we can be different bc we dont risk alienating or insulting those people who supposedly know us. but sometimes that thing in our mind crosses over to the physical realm and we make it real not just for us but for everyone else.

this happened with me and typewriters due to circumstance. and we should all readily admit that while there is fate and luck, there is also circumstance that intervenes and makes it possible.

let me describe this circumstance that led to typewriters

while being home and taking care of my newborn son, he required us to be his bed, human beds. both my wife and i took turns initially. for some reason, W didnt like to be put down, especially at night. so my wife and i had shifts where one of us would stay up and keep him asleep, carrying him.
this can be especially boring bc its difficult to sleep while carrying a baby. we filled the time with movies, netflix, twitter, reading on the iphone. during one of these nights, i stumbled upon a picture where there was a typewriter in the corner - i do not remember this picture any longer but i can tell you it spoke to me and it rekindled something within me.

i typically am not a materialistic person. i have stuff, but not much. i suppose my only materialistic extravagance is my book collection  probably numbering around 500

which i have since stopped probably around 2009 due to space constraints and have painstakingly and painfully wittled down. usually though i dont want anything for birthdays or christmas. seeing that typewriter though really made me want one on my lap, under my fingers and in my ears and nose and reflected in my eyes.

i slowly began to seek out information, coming across some articles about a dying thing. i purposefully avoided blogs because i thought them to be self-serving inane selfish egofeeding pointless drivel.

then my wife went back to work and i was home alone with my son. just him and me. at least before i got to take some breaks. not anymore, i had him from 8am-5pm. and i had to do all the diaper changes, both #1 and #2 and sometimes in the face if you didnt keep vigilant alertness. and feedings, which was fine except since he had a 100% liquid diet, you had to burp him and keep him upright for at least 30min or else he might puke. and he still spit up pretty much no matter what. so sometimes if he spit up enough you might have to change him bc that gets all over the place, even past the bib.

so being alone, save a baby, i used the time he was asleep to read on my kindle or watch some tv, and generally de-stress and then my mind would focus on the typewriter. i then started reading about them again and found those typewriter websites: Alan Seaver's machines of loving grace, Will Davis' sites, Richard Polt's typewriter page, and my first blog: Robert Messenger's ozTypewriter.

Those 4 sites introduced me to so much information that i perused them esp during W's naps during the day. Eventually i found other blogs but by then i was eBaying. at first i mostly just "watched" auctions. typewriters were already so expensive!!! what were these bloggers talking about with their $5 typewriters or even $20 eBay wins???

Because typewriters were so expensive, i decided to acquire only the best one and that was it. After reading so many articles and personal essays, blogs and entries and those 4 websites over and over, i determined that the best typewriter to own, if i were to own just one, is the Olympia sm4.

however, i also wanted to own my favorite author's typewriter and Philip Roth use(s)/(d) an Olivetti Lettera 32 (Thanks Richard!)

since eBay was so expensive, i checked craigslist. i happen to find a lady in newport beach selling her corona silent (the one that Ruben Flores returned to me earlier today) for $300. I had to see what a $300 typewriter looked like so i texted her and she sent me some pics and i was smitten. I told her, i cant afford $300 but if you can take $70 then thatd be spectacular. To my astonishment, she accepted the deal. BTW: i plan to profile the story of acquiring this typer in its own entry one day so ill spare some details. Anyways, i also happen to find a Lettera 32 on craigslist the same day and took that deal face value.

That day, my wife picked up the Olivetti in Irvine, CA and later that night, we picked up the burgundy/magenta Corona Speedline Silent in Newport Beach, CA. Later that weekend, i dropped both off to US Office Machines and my jaw dropped when Ruben gave me the estimates.

That convinced me to pay top dollar to get a machine in good shape. i still wanted my Olympia so i spent the days finding the right one.

Thats how i got into acquiring typewriters. It became a daily, all day obsessions to find the perfect Olmypia sm4, which at the time were all going for over $100 easily.

I was on eBay and craigslist basically all day. I was emailing sellers like crazy. Im sure many of you have a similar story.

But basically that habit is still strong today. Months later and nearly 20 typewriters and i still check ebay and craigslist and the pennysaver and recycler and some goodwills and some antique stores. i obviously do mostly ebay and craigslist bc i cant be driving to antique shops and goodwills all the time with my baby.

soon the madness will stop though. My garage is nuts bc i have no room to keep them in the house. The house belongs to the baby. and soon, the next newborn.

Little Brother

We announced it yesterday, just another lazy saturday like any other except this time we had some big news. Yes, the wife is pregnant. And we will be having a second son.
How can my little 7 month old be a big brother so soon? He’s still so small and just seems to enjoy all the attention. By the time my next is born, W will be barely 1 or perhaps not even 1. Yes, they will be considered Irish Twins and 2 under 2. Quite crazy really.
Did we enjoy him enough, solely him? More importantly, did he have abundant time to have all the love and attention? Is it too soon and are we stretching ourselves too thin?
It is much the same way with typewriters, i think.
We likely started with one. We probably poured ourselves 100% into it and let ourselves be immersed and absorbed completely. Our thoughts enveloped around her and only her. You went hand in hand, inseparable. And there was no other choice. There was no such thing as an option. It was perhaps inconceivable at the time.
But then it happened. The day where #2 came along. Maybe it was happenstance or fate. Maybe a haphazard accident or delicious destiny. I dont believe we would have purposefully deceived #1 about #2 but maybe we didnt make a big deal about preparedness or formal introduction or permission, even.
Maybe we considered it progression – Onward!. Nature: growth and development.
Maybe we considered it a rare magic. New life. And it should be universally celebrated.
Well, let me tell you – my first son (we shall from now on refer to him as “W”) – he certainly is a ham. He absolutely adores our watchful eye, so much so that every now and again he will stop what he is doing and look around and make sure our gaze is fixed upon him. It wouldnt surprise me to find out that he actually thinks that it is a permanent arrangement – that our eyes are spotlights to his one-baby show which of course he will always be the star.
And should our gaze be on anything else, he stares at you until your eyes again find him. And this stare, his look dares you: “Really?” it seems to question in naive bewilderment. “Is there anything more beautiful or important to look at than me?” – he asks without so much as a peep. And of course, coming from a baby it is nothing short of cute and innocent and truly wonderful. You cannot help but smile and answer back via telepathy: “sorry, baby! – you are my whole world!” and you mean this emphatically and absolutely.
My first typewriter was a burgundy-maroon beauty Silent, which i had found out was deemed a speedline. i prefered this speedline design to the earlier flattop because it was a lot more aerodynamic (as if it would take flight one day) and therefore smooth and sleek like myself. It represented me, and at the moment, i thought: this is the ultimate typewriter! It is not black and it is not grey. It’s color is a vintage wine and it isnt brash but instead subtle as all the stories it has lived, seen, and heard in its decades of existence. It belongs neither to the night or day and exists without being tied to the rules of time. In addition to the color, I was further pleased that it was a Silent model, and i imagined it harkened back to the silent film stars. By using this, i became a sort of Rudolf Valentino/Douglas Fairbanks and my typewriter was my Mary Pickford and she had a voice but only i had the ability to hear it.
Lastly i really was fond of those glass keys. They allowed the passage to the past because they a sign of the times and werent as manufactured as plastic. In their reflection with a hard squint you could still see those who used the machine before you.
She was all i had ever hoped for in a typewriter.
And just a few hours later that day came my Olivetti 32, by a stroke of luck and better stroke of genius.
I will make this bold comparison that our typewriters are like our children, to an extent. Can we pick and choose? Sometimes we do, but we know we shouldnt. We should love the same and harbor no favorite or preference. And ideally, we share the love equally.
My wife told me something vastly substantial: Your love grows.