Typewriting in Public
An Encounter of Retro Tech Over Coffee
I’ve previously written on Substack about my love for typewriters. You’ll often see me banging away on my Smith-Corona Skyriter at my favorite neighborhood coffeeshop, Afro Joe’s.
The Skyriter is a great portable typewriter, manufactured in the 1950s for journalists, war correspondents, and white collar workers. It’s lightweight and easy to haul from place to place, trip to trip: hence the original name “Skyriter.” When you took to the skies for travel, you could now bring your typewriter along.
Today, it’s perfect when I’m going stir crazy and need to get out of the house for quality writing sessions. Yet there is an obvious hazard using my Skyriter in public. As much as I hate to be bothered when I’m in my full mondo writing zone, people are fascinated to see someone working furiously on a typewriter. Laptops are an indistinguishable part of any background ambiance. Retro tech has a way of drawing attention. As a result, people often come to my table and ask questions. I’m not an exhibitionist but this attention I do not mind—or rather, do not mind when I’m taking a break.
Everything Old is New Again
For some people the Skyriter evokes nostalgia. I’ve had people my age (not saying!) and older (also not saying!) telling me their own typewriter histories from old office jobs or while in school. We trade stories about our days working on typewriters, assorted brands and models we used, and the messy business of changing ribbons. Plus, there is debate between the merits of manual versus electric typewriters. I stand firmly in the former camp. I dig the tactile feel and many noises that come with using manuals.
That said, I had a brief romance during my college and post-undergrad years with an electric typewriter. It felt so modern, almost like using a “word processor,” the forerunner of desktop computers. I still have that machine. It rests snuggled inside its case, gathering dust in my office closet. Once I drop dead, I expect someone to unearth it and say, “what is this thing and what are we going to do with it?” They can figure that out for themselves. Rack that one up to my weird sense of humor.
Do You Write? Well…
The other question I get when typing in public is “do you write?” Well, I’m typing on this thing, and doing it fast, so, yes, I do write. I’m reluctant to talk about my books though—probably via false humility. Sometimes I just don’t like being the “author guy” in public. My usual answers are something like, “Oh, nothing you’d know.” Most likely that assessment is correct. I’m not an A-Lister. But if they really want to know, I wind a fresh sheet of paper into the platen, type up my Substack URL and webpage URL, and give them the info. Doing it this way instead of sending them a link via the iPhone is my cheap thrill. The Geek abides.
The other type of question (pun intended!) is usually from children of the computer age who’ve only seen typewriters at work in an episode of Mad Men.
I love these kids. They give me the opportunity to show off. I explain how a typewriter works: inserting paper, lining it up on the platen (i.e., the roller), working the space bar and backspace key, using lower case “L” as numeral “1,” and the combination of apostrophe and period to create an exclamation point. All this plus the magic of that ding! as a sentence comes to the end of the margin and you must hit the carriage return lever. I also explain the QWETRY keyboard, originally designed so typing arms wouldn’t smack into each other. Although modern technology no longer requires that setup, QWETRY remains a standard on computer and smartphone keyboards.
But what’s really delightful is when one of these young’uns tells me that they want to get a typewriter of their own. I recently had such an encounter—about five minutes ago as I draft this. The young woman in question was the inspiration for this Substack blog, even though she didn’t realize it.
She writes poetry. Her goal is to create a poetry pop-up shop, setting up a location at some busy street corner to compose verses on the fast for customers who want a one-of-a-kind literary work. No text nor WhatsApp message will ever reproduce that visceral moment of seeing a customized typewritten poem come to life.
After explaining the intricacies of how the Skyriter works, I invited her to take a whirl. Her eyes expanded into saucers. This was a revelatory experience she was about to embark on, albeit I’m probably waxing a little hyperbolic.
She tapped on the keys with a light touch, as someone steeped on a computer keyboard is wont to do. But you don’t “tap” typewriter keys. You work your fingers with vigor to fill up the page. “Hit it harder,” I said. “You need to force the keys down. Don’t worry, it won’t bite you.”
Next, I showed her how the combination of bell and carriage return lever operates. She was hesitant at first. It was so different from that digital realm where words automatically go to the next line; plus, tapping the “enter” key with a simple move of the right pinky finger when needed. But she caught on quickly. Within a minute or two she was knocking away like to the manner born. The kid was a natural.
She was hooked. Still there was a little hesitancy, rooted in the obvious questions I also had when I returned to the typewriter. Where could she buy a machine, what is its care and feeding, and that all important question: could she still buy ribbons? My answers were a constant refrain: eBay, antique stores, and Google. eBay and antique stores have good selections of typewriters, plus you can buy your ribbons off eBay. As for maintenance: you can google a manual for just about any typewriter ever made, plus there are a sizable number of typewriter mechanics still working their craft, like Chicago’s Lucas Dul.
She thanked me, pulled her newly written poem from the typewriter roller, and off she went. It was a delightful encounter. Unexpected happenstances like this always make me smile.
And that, dear reader, is part of the reason that this Substack blog is named “The Typewriter’s Collage.” It is the mix and match of writing tools from the 20th century into the new millennium and back again.
What are your typewriter stories? Do you write or do other creative work in public? Share your thoughts in the comment section or on Twitter @RealArnieB. And be sure to check out my webpage: www.arniebernstein.com.