I got my new old typewriter! And it is beautiful! I am in awe, really.
When I unpacked it from the huge box yesterday, carefully crammed with the most newspaper balls I have ever seen, I felt like a kid on Christmas.
The case had obviously seen a lot of handling, and a lot of moving about. I fumbled with the mechanism to open it. Eventually figured out the old-fashioned latches.
When I opened the case, the typewriter took my breath away. Gorgeous! I was immediately taken with the lovely color; surprised by its shine; awed by its newness. I doubt that it was ever removed from its case throughout all its years. No scratches, no sign of rust, no wear and tear at all.
After admiring its appearance, I grabbed some printer paper and put it to the test. It works! Smooth and easy. All the keys worked, all the knobs and levers and buttons did everything they were supposed to. Even the bell chimed when I reached the end of the first line, prompting me to use the return bar to start a new line. Fun, fun, fun. Oh, how it took me back to the good old days when one needed very strong fingers, especially pinkies, to hold down the shift key to make a capital "A".
As promised on ebay, it was in mint condition. Even the aging typewriter ribbon still has some life in it. Hopefully it won't be too difficult to find replacement ribbons as needed because I intend to use this little beauty. It will sit next to my computer in my scrapbook room. Oftentimes I have felt a typewriter would be quite useful when trying to print on something other than 8.5 x 11 paper.
Sometimes there is nothing so powerful as a bit of nostalgia, a momentary backward glance at how life used to be. The reminders are there, too, of how most things have gotten easier, been improved. That was very apparent when I hit a wrong letter and wasn't able to find any delete key to make immediate, easy corrections. Things have certainly changed with the times, but if we are wise, we will pause occasionally to remember and cherish the building blocks of our lives, the tools used to set the foundations that we continue to build upon.
I love my typewriter, but most of all I love the memory of a similar one used years ago that bore the fingerprints of my grandmother as well as my own. I love that I was able to learn to type. It opened up a world for me that has filled my life with joy. Now I just need to strengthen my pinkies again...