I’m not sure if it was the right decision. As I type this, I could still take it back, change my mind — no, I did the right thing. And by the time this blog post goes live, it will be over.
My beloved typewriter [sniffle] will be on its way to a landfill! WAAAAAAAH!
It was time; it was way past time. The typewriter has “lived” in the basement, perched on a couch for about 5 years. Who knows when it was used last.
It served me well though. It was an electric typewriter with a limited memory. You could type normally with every press of a letter key making the corresponding typebar strike the ribbon and paper.
But you could also turn on memory mode and enter about 200 words before the memory was full. You could even edit those 200 words on a one-line screen that showed about 20 characters. When you were happy with it, a press of a key sent the tyepwriter clickety-clacking away. It was pretty snazzy for its day.
The typewriter saw me through college and a freelance job covering school board and township meetings for a local paper. I transcribed favorite poems from library books and created my own anthology. I wrote stories and half-thought-out novels. My mom used it to create a syllabus and handouts for a genealogy course she taught.
I replaced the typewriter with my first Mac and didn’t look back. Still, the typewriter made it through at least 3 moves before taking up an extended residence in the basement.
Today’s the day though. The day when, as a result of frenzied cleaning and emptying of the house, I have to say goodbye.
Of course, the typewriter’s at the top of a trash can. I could easily get it out, clean it up and — nah, I’ll let it go.
So long, old friend.