Photos of the Remie Scout, 3-bank Underwood, and Erika with her folding Corona cousin have been uploaded to Flickr!

The Remie Scout

The 3-bank Underwood Standard Portable

The folding Erika with her kissing cousin, the Corona #3. Very different bodies, but if you looked at the folding carriage mechanics, you’d hardly tell the difference.

Speaking of typewriter photos, it seems that I was caught in action on Typewriter Day by fellow Flickrite Jonathunder! My insanity is famous!

So yesterday, I come home to find M. Clemen’s gorgeous Erika folding portable awaiting, on it’s side, by my back gate. Fortunately, he had packed it well, and no damage was done by the Three Stooges Postal Service. This is the one I received in trade for my 1951/2 Smith-Corona Sterling. Hardly a fair trade, but I’ve committed to repairing the Erika’s few functional shortcomings. Such as the platen that spins freely around its core, the crumbling feed roller, and the mangled paperclip that serves as the bell-dinger spring.

At the same time, my first round of Traveling Type arrived from Strikethru! My, she has a nice pair of
rubber stamps. A large Remington standard adorns the front of the envelope, while a large Western Union telegram facsimile fills a large portion of the back. Inside is a Travelling Type log entry form which I dare any of the other participants, including myself, to best. The script Hermes 3000 she typed her submission on makes my Escort 55 quail.

This morning, because I’d had them sent to the office to protect against potentially being left out in the rain, I had two more typewriters waiting for me! (Yes, you may assume at this point, if you haven’t already, that I have a collecting problem.) These were eBay machines that were about to be won by keychoppers, for insultingly low prices. I impulsively threw in a pair of lowball bids and walked away, only to be surprised in the morning by a pair of “You won!” emails. Suffice it to say that the total cost of both machines, including shipping, was less than the one usually goes for, minus shipping. I don’t know what typewriter gods were smiling down upon me that day.

One is a Remington Remie Scout, made sometime from 1932-1934. The serial number has been deliberately obliterated, so I can’t find out for sure. The Remie Scout was another inexpensive, no-frills Depression-era typewriter, sometimes sold as the Monarch or the Pioneer. Update: the serial number has been found! It was behind the top row of keys, hidden beneath several layers of dust. Not sure what the mangled number on the side of the segment piece was supposed to be.

The other is a 1929 Underwood Standard Portable 3-bank in forest green. I’ve lusted after one of these 3-bank Underwoods for ages. The fact that it isn’t the standard black is just icing on the cake. Alas, the ribbon spool covers are missing, but that’s fairly typical with these guys. Too soon to have photos yet, but it looks just like this one on Richard Polt’s site.

So far my promise to the spousal unit to begin unloading typewriters has resulted in exactly one typewriter removed from the house, which was canceled out by the Erika, and four new ones coming in.

I should look on the bright side: an addition to typewriters is highly unlikely to kill me with an infected needle.

More typewriter ephemera. Matchbook cover detail advertising this typewriter. I plan to print it out as an 8×10 and hang it on the wall above the Speedline assembly. If you’d like to do the same, you can download the large version from my Flickr page, or e-mail me to get the more printer-friendly 1200dpi original.

One can easily justify the absolutely unnecessary purchase of Yet Another Typewriter when they are as beautiful as these two. As many of use collectors can attest, a typewriter find can be hit-or-miss. Sometimes a beautiful case contains a beat-up junker, and sometimes a beat-up case contains a pristine typer. I was lucky to find two beautiful typers snug safe in their cases.

I call this one my China Doll. She’s a 1948 Smith-Corona Clipper. This was the last full year of the Speedline body style, as well as one of the last years of the flying boat from which she took her name. The airplane depicted in her logo is a Boeing 314, made famous by Pan-Am’s fleet of globe-hopping Clippers. Pan-Am had, in fact, retired their B-314 fleet a couple of years earlier, in 1946, and sold the planes to either the Navy or to private charter companies. Like the Speedines themselves, B-314s continued to appear sporadically under various names into the early 1950s.

Possibly the most famous flying boat was the China Clipper, which ran the San Francisco to Hong Kong route from 1935 to 1941. Technically, only Pan-Am’s original Martin M-130 flying boat can be called the China Clipper. The B-314 which replaced it on the same route in 1939 was called the California Clipper. Many people, however, continued to refer to it as the China Clipper. In fact, in the 1939 children’s book, Timmy Rides the China Clipper, it is the new B-314 that is depicted and not the true M-130 China Clipper.

But I digress. China Doll is a beautiful machine. Her workings move as smoothly as a Swiss clock, and I’m sure once I put a new ribbon in her she will be as much a joy to type on as to look at.

Oh, and why did I select the China Clipper to name her for over the eight other Pan-Am routes? See, China white is a particularly pure and powerful form of heroin. It seemed an appropriate, albeit obscure reference to my own addiction to typewriters as well as her airborne heritage.

I’m feelin’ tragic like I’m Marlon Brando
When I look at my China Girl
I could pretend that nothing really meant too much
When I look at my China Girl
–Iggy Pop/David Bowie, “China Girl”

This chrome-laden 1936 Royal DeLuxe beauty was literally bought sight-unseen. Though he didn’t know exactly what he had, the very nice gentleman selling it gave such an accurate description that I knew there was a gem to be had for next to nothing. And indeed it turned out to be one. The only minor problem is that it seems to have a worn bearing in the carriage which causes it to stick about in the middle. I’m too chicken to attempt to disassemble and reassemble a carriage. This may be one that I tote up to Vale Typewriter for quality, professional repair. This is the A-model, BTW, the one with a tabulator. I’ll have to think of an appropriate person to name it after. Someone who is a wallflower, unnoticed by everyone, until she is drawn from her shell to become a flashy star. Hmm…Norma?

For your education and amusement, I present the 1950 Federal Work Improvement Program Equipment Maintenance Series #1 booklet, Typewriter Care. Here you will find an excellently illustrated guide to cleaning and maintaining your government-issued typewriter, how to lift and carry a typewriter, fastening the typewriter to a desk, removing the platen, and helpful hints to prolong your typewriter’s life. Though not perhaps as amusingly dated as Family Fallout Shelters, it is nonetheless an interesting and informative glimpse into the days when the typewriter repair guy was as ubiquitous to the office as today’s helpdesk guy.

Caution to those on dialup: the pdf is just over 5mb in size.

A little free-association poem written as I tested out a Hermes Rocket I had just finished cleaning up.