I was using my typewriter today – I have a strange fetish for the old beauty and I was reminded of this piece that I wrote a few years ago. It’s all about my Olivetti… in the time since I hammered out this piece Polaroid has discontinued making film – makes the story all the more relevant if you ask me….
Risking Reward
Originally written in 2003 (previously unpublished)
I have made a rather amazing purchase. I was at the recycling centre in Wanaka looking around for hidden treasures within the various bits of junk. As I was sifting through the crap something caught the corner of my eye. From ten paces away I could see exactly what it was. I stepped closer and my heart skipped a beat. I had found what I had been looking for. There it was in all its mint green glory, an Olivetti Lettera 22 Typewriter! Pre-dating the computer by a decade, this classic sports the little arms that WHACK the page, the death-star style ball was still a wave into the future for this beauty.
I scoped the masking tape that stuck to the top. One dollar. I fished through my trousers and came up with the coins to buy my new toy. Wrapped with excitement I sped to the stationary store to get the necessary supplies. First a ribbon, the one on the machine was installed when Christ was in short pants so needless to say it was dry as dirt. Second was paper, typewriter paper.
Once I got home I set up the machine. And there it sits just to my right, on the desk beside the laptop. About the same size actually, but no cord, no instructions, no sound effects, except of course for the resounding DING at the margin and the ever present CLICKCLICKCLICK of the keys striking the page.
It's amazing I thought that it would be a hoot to type out shopping lists and type the odd letter for a laugh. But it has grown into something quite different over the past couple of weeks since that fateful day at the recycling centre. The typewriter has begun to symbolize something deeper, something I have been striving for.
A few months ago I purchased a Polaroid camera and this typewriter is very much on the same spirit as it. In our ever-boring world there seems to be something lacking. The safety net of technology has cradled us to a point where we have been washed clean of our character. Sanitized of what makes us who we are.
Take this article for example. Before you read it, Word will automatically check the spelling on it and correct all the mistakes that I will make as I peck away. And you will never be the wiser; in fact you will assume that my spelling is in fact perfect. All my imperfections removed in one simple click of the mouse. Thanks to my computer all my little rough edges will be smoothed out for the benefit of everyone and I will be just like everyone else.
There is no delete key, no spell check, when you get to the end of the line and the word doesn't quite fit it doesn't get picked up and put onto the next line, it stays there, half finished. When the power goes out I can hammer away by candlelight, striking the keys with a force that propels the words onto the page. Everything I type, every letter is embossed onto a page, forever. In our throwaway world of email over letters and txting over phone calls, these words are permanent; there is a sense of commitment. Everything that is typed is there for the world to see, no second thoughts, no second-guessing.
Maybe that's what we all need, maybe that's what some of us are looking for, and maybe, just maybe some of us have found it. A return to a world that has consequence, where you are responsible for your mistakes. A world where reward and penance are earned, not electronically transferred into our accounts.
For some it's the risk of climbing a mountain or surfing a giant wave that re-touches them with the primal desire of responsibility. Maybe that same feeling can be achieved with a risk of a different sort. Maybe that risk can be a social risk, like daring to use the wrong 'there' in a letter or daring to ask someone to dance. It's that risk of failure, regardless of the consequences, that makes us human. From my point of view, that very thing that makes us human is being taken away by the technology we have created.
Do something today that scares you, you know you need to.
Risking Reward
Originally written in 2003 (previously unpublished)
I have made a rather amazing purchase. I was at the recycling centre in Wanaka looking around for hidden treasures within the various bits of junk. As I was sifting through the crap something caught the corner of my eye. From ten paces away I could see exactly what it was. I stepped closer and my heart skipped a beat. I had found what I had been looking for. There it was in all its mint green glory, an Olivetti Lettera 22 Typewriter! Pre-dating the computer by a decade, this classic sports the little arms that WHACK the page, the death-star style ball was still a wave into the future for this beauty.
I scoped the masking tape that stuck to the top. One dollar. I fished through my trousers and came up with the coins to buy my new toy. Wrapped with excitement I sped to the stationary store to get the necessary supplies. First a ribbon, the one on the machine was installed when Christ was in short pants so needless to say it was dry as dirt. Second was paper, typewriter paper.
Once I got home I set up the machine. And there it sits just to my right, on the desk beside the laptop. About the same size actually, but no cord, no instructions, no sound effects, except of course for the resounding DING at the margin and the ever present CLICKCLICKCLICK of the keys striking the page.
It's amazing I thought that it would be a hoot to type out shopping lists and type the odd letter for a laugh. But it has grown into something quite different over the past couple of weeks since that fateful day at the recycling centre. The typewriter has begun to symbolize something deeper, something I have been striving for.
A few months ago I purchased a Polaroid camera and this typewriter is very much on the same spirit as it. In our ever-boring world there seems to be something lacking. The safety net of technology has cradled us to a point where we have been washed clean of our character. Sanitized of what makes us who we are.
Take this article for example. Before you read it, Word will automatically check the spelling on it and correct all the mistakes that I will make as I peck away. And you will never be the wiser; in fact you will assume that my spelling is in fact perfect. All my imperfections removed in one simple click of the mouse. Thanks to my computer all my little rough edges will be smoothed out for the benefit of everyone and I will be just like everyone else.
There is no delete key, no spell check, when you get to the end of the line and the word doesn't quite fit it doesn't get picked up and put onto the next line, it stays there, half finished. When the power goes out I can hammer away by candlelight, striking the keys with a force that propels the words onto the page. Everything I type, every letter is embossed onto a page, forever. In our throwaway world of email over letters and txting over phone calls, these words are permanent; there is a sense of commitment. Everything that is typed is there for the world to see, no second thoughts, no second-guessing.
Maybe that's what we all need, maybe that's what some of us are looking for, and maybe, just maybe some of us have found it. A return to a world that has consequence, where you are responsible for your mistakes. A world where reward and penance are earned, not electronically transferred into our accounts.
For some it's the risk of climbing a mountain or surfing a giant wave that re-touches them with the primal desire of responsibility. Maybe that same feeling can be achieved with a risk of a different sort. Maybe that risk can be a social risk, like daring to use the wrong 'there' in a letter or daring to ask someone to dance. It's that risk of failure, regardless of the consequences, that makes us human. From my point of view, that very thing that makes us human is being taken away by the technology we have created.
Do something today that scares you, you know you need to.
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