Confession time. I am drawn to these things. They seem to find me everywhere I go. The latest is called ‘portable’ because it comes with a lid to enclose and carry it.
I must refrain from purchasing them as I am running out of room to display them.
Sadly, I find them in disarray, broken up for their parts; their old keys recycled into jewelry.
But sometimes I receive them in perfect condition, like this one my sister won at an auction in Minnesota.
Another one added to my collection is housed in a special case. It was a Christmas gift from my sister that had to wait until we were moved before its construction and took three of us over several days to put together.
Perhaps my obsession with these is how the smell of dried-up ink ribbon brings me back to my Daddy’s typewriter that looked much like this one.
It was stored in the entryway closet, and he let me play on it from time to time. Could it be that Daddy’s old college term-paper-typing, no correctional tape machine, inspired a young girl to become a writer?
I’ll save that for a future story.
What about you?
Do you collect typewriters, or have one (or more) from “the olden days” on display or stored in closets? Do you actually use a manual typewriter? Share your favorite typewriter memory in the comments.