Surprises? I like surprises....

So... I'm back in Brisbane. 

I've been back a few days, and while this isn't a bad thing I'm feeling a little sad about it. Quite sad. 

But not too sad. There seems to have been a steady flow of little surprises of late. 

The Typewriters. 

Let's get down to business. Firstly, I managed to score a beautiful little Remington portable 2 that needs a little bit of mechanical attention, but will be a gorgeous little machine once I've got it going again. The colour was a surprise. Not only was it different to the photo on ebay, but I've never seen a Remington machine... ever... of this colour. However, it does have all the original Remington decals, and is suitably worn so I'm supremely confident that this is the original colour. 

I'm really excited about the potential of this machine. With a clean and a bit of hard work, I think it will be brilliant. 

Following hot on the heels of the Remington, is a machine that I've been excitedly waiting for, for some time. It has travelled a LONG way, and is a cracker of a machine - even if it is more modern then the machines I usually like. I have never seen one of those in Australia, or for that matter in the USA. It is the direct decedent of the Triumph Perfekt, and is a far more interesting machine in person than it is in the photos. 

May I present.... The Gabrielle - E 

better photos an a full review to come soon. 

Oh, and thanks a heap, Spider! 

To top it all off, a third machine came into my possession in the last couple of days. This one is a little more mundane, but there's something a bit special that came with it. 

It is an Olympia SM9, which there's got to be about a billion of these guys out there. Sure, it is far from rare. But it has only had one owner (now, I'm it's second) since the day it was bought. As you can see, the original receipt is there along with everything else. The lady that owned it kept everything meticulously organised. 

So we have the manual, a touch-typing guide that was produced by the Australian government's bank - the then 'Commonwealth banking corporation'. A test sheet that shows the typewriter's typeface is all in order, and there's the SM9 quick setup guide. 

But the receipt told a little story of it's own. This machine was bought somewhere very interesting. 

See which shop it was sold at, for $115, in 1971? 

That's Madang, Papua New Guinea. 

PNG was in a state of flux in 1971. It was a country that was coming back from being a major theatre of war during the second world war, and was forming its own government. Australia's own government assisted in the building of the nation, and we sent hundreds of bureaucrats to assist. Not only that, but hundreds of missionaries poured into the country to lay claim to the souls of thousands of tribal people that were still to have contact with the outside world. 

And here we have a then brand-new Olympia SM9 being sold to someone out of a shop in a fairly remote town in PNG. 

Parer's war. 

Speaking of PNG. Rob Messenger mentioned on his blog a couple of weeks ago a film that was going to be aired on Australian television called 'Parer's war'. I was rather eager to watch it, so I settled down with a cold drink and sat back and watched - with a bit of an eye out for typewriters that may pop up. Why not do a bit of typewriter spotting, you may say! 

But some of the interior shots of Parer's home seemed oddly familiar. And towards the end of the film I got an unexpected shock. 

The outside of 'Parer's' block of flats (apartments). 

Such a beautiful art deco building it is, right? 

The courtyard in the front of the building. 

That's also quite a beautiful court-yard. I wish I lived somewhere like that. 

Oh wait.... I did. Actually, when I started writing this blog in 2012 I was still living there. Remember my blog entry on the cinema nights I used to run in that courtyard? 

'Cinema Elron' 

Yeah... That Elron Court. 

The interior shots weren't filmed in Jane and I's old flat, but rather the flat that was opposite us across the garden at Unit 1. 

A good friend of mine used to live in that apartment, and I'd have to have spent hundreds of hours there drinking lovely wine and talking politics, religion and sex. All the stuff you don't talk about in polite company. 

Heck, when she was away I would go over and feed her birds, which were kept in the room that in this scene is being done up for a baby's nursery. Even the phone jack on the wall where her computer used to be connected is visible in this scene. 

Lovely! 

I did a fair amount of research into the history of the building when I lived there for 5 years (Jane lived there 11). It was built in 1939, and opened for tenants in 1940. 

But I have no idea if Parer himself actually lived there at any stage. There are a lot of interesting stories to be told about that place, and it was nice to have added history of my own to it's tale. 

Ahhhhh.... I'm getting all nostalgic again. I better get back to packing house, as I'm moving again very soon. 

Thanks for reading! 

I'd buy that for a dollar, or three.

I felt slightly jealous of some of the ultra-cheap typewriter finds that Ted and and a few other typewriter lovers recently posted about. Or at least until.... 

(pardon my sloppy english). 

The Adler.... It looks a little worn an beaten, but may prove to be an excellent typewriter yet. 

* * *

Oh, but it didn't end there... 

That's right. 12 typewriters. That makes them $3 each. The photos did not provide much in the way of information on these machines, as the seller had basically just crammed whatever he could into three photos without attempting to make any effort to display what he had. 

As such at least 4 of the typewriters were going to be a bit of a 'lucky dip' selection. But I did spot a very familiar case on one, that I was certain would make this worthwhile. 

The problem is, that my collection had already burst at the seams as it was. I just simply don't have storage space to put them. Suddenly adding another twelve to the mix is going to be interesting. 

The morning that the auction ended, I went over and collected the horde of machines and loaded them into Ruby the Exxy with the assistance of miss Jane. It was essentially a deceased estate, as these machines belonged to the seller's late father. 

"He was trying to fix them and sell them" the seller told me. "But I think he was asking too much for them or something". The seller was ex-army. He struck me as the kind of guy that would have been a 'plantie', an engineer that would operate or maintain heavy machinery used in construction. His car was adorned with army stickers, and the less tasteful  car 'breasticles', a variation of 'Truck testicles' that looked like breasts hanging from his tow-bar. 

Either way, the collective of machines were both filthy, and in disarray. A couple of the machines were flat-out just nasty, with wasp nests and rust giving the collection a texture that made one feel compelled to get a tetanus shot just for handling them. 

I had been emailing both John and Steve about these typewriters, and we'd agreed grab whatever we particularly wanted the most from the collection of machines. As I drove out from the seller's house, I called Steve and asked him if he would like to take a look. 

I laid out the collection on Steve's front lawn, and we were soon going over each machine with something of a cursory inspection. John had already expressed that he wanted the big Remington standard, and I wanted the particularly green coloured typewriter that I had spotted as just a case in the photos. 

More typewriters growing from Steve's lawn? 

No prizes for guessing which machine I gave my immediate preference to. 

As you can see, there's also a box of Adler branded ribbons. I have no idea as to what condition these are in, but I'm curious to find out. 

There was really only two machines that I at this stage feel are irretrievable. The rest of them I am certain can still have another life yet. But I may find some disasters await me when I start to have a much closer look. Either way, at $3 each typewriter, there's really nothing to cry about. 

The big Olivetti Studio even had its cover, and interestingly a list of songs that looked like it was for a country music christmas celebration. I immediately had the mental image of some RM Williams clad man with an Akubra hat on, tapping out the list of his favourites on that big ol' Olivetti. Trouble is that the machine's design had 'space age' written all over it, so far as it even had a 'techno' typeface. As such it just didn't seem to be the right typewriter for the part. Not to mention that a woman had signed off on the list with some christmas wishes. Not that women don't cruise around wearing RM's and big hats. 

Fragments of the past. Oh... hang on, there's some familiar names here.

Steve grabbed out of the collection an Olivetti 32, and a Underwood 310. I'm certain with a bit of a clean the 310 would come up looking quite beautiful with its striking cobalt blue ribbon cover and trim, and vibrant white shell. I think he's got a worthwhile machine there. 

We loaded the 10 other machines back into the car and Jane and I made our way home. I've now got 10 more typewriters that need assessing and, well, probably urgent attention, sitting in my shed. That's 11 typewriters in total this week from just the local countryside.

It must be fruit-pickin' season. 

The Remington man, and the blur of memories.

While I was in Melbourne, I set myself what I thought would be a simple task. I was to find a photograph of my my grandfather 'Scottie', who had been a typewriter mechanic for over 40 years.

However in doing so I made a discovery that left me re-thinking much of my families history, and made me confront some very difficult memories of my own.

But let's start at the beginning...

John Lavery couldn't picture my grandfather's face in his head. He knew the name, he knew him as one of the mechanics around Melbourne, and I knew a lot of the mutual mutual people that I had even met myself.

After all, I had been to the Adler workshop with my grandfather. I remember meeting the head mechanic of that workshop's son on several occasions as well. In fact, I have a whole host of memories of my own - even though I was very young, from Adler.

I arrived at my uncle's place mid evening, and he cooked up some dinner for me. My uncle in a lot of ways is a lot like myself, and he showed my some of the newer additions to some of his collections. We looked over his 50 something typewriters (almost all of them were standards, would you believe!) his Harley Davidson motorcycles, his GT Falcons, his P!NK memorabilia, and we soon got down to talking about family business.

The last of the great V8s. Such a brilliant car!

My grandmother passed away 3 years ago, and what little was left of her estate was tucked away in a room at my uncle's house in Melbourne. So it seemed only logical that I ask him if he had some photos of my grandfather.

A few beers were consumed for courage before my uncle delved into the spare room filled to the ceiling with my grandmother's belongings, and he soon returned with two photo filled shopping bags  that had been quickly stuffed with very little care.

He back sat down with a bit of an anxious huff, and started to pull photos from the bag.

"Do you have any of him at Adler by chance, at the workshop"? I asked casually.
"Ay"? My uncle enquired with confusion. "He never worked for Adler. He worked for Remington for 47 years"!

Honestly surprised, I then asked him "Really? Why did he drag my sister and I all the time to Adler, and why did he seem to always be mates with all the mechanics from there"?
"Oh no, he just went there for parts and stuff. Oh, and he bought heaps of typewriters from there. He used to sell them on to customers. He just went there because the typewriters were cheap and he had some mates there".

"Here, have a look at this" My uncle continued, as he handed me another photo as though he was emphasising a point. "I think this is me as a kid, standing in front of the Chartres service car"

I was stunned. I was certain he worked for Adler. Even my own father who would have surely known him for decades of his working life, had talked about him at Adler's workshops, and I struggled to make any sense of all of this. But the evidence was irrefutable - 'Scottie' was a Remington man. 

Scottie wasn't actually his name. He immigrated from Scotland in the 20's, and never lost the accent. If anything, the older he got the thicker the accent became. The nickname 'Scottie' apparently stuck very early on, and for some reason - despite there being thousands of immigrants from Scotland in Australia, he seemed to be 'Scottie' to pretty much everyone.

We shuffled on through the photos and soon came across some images taken from my Grandparent's wedding. My Grandmother looked astonishingly beautiful, and I realised that I knew very little about my grandparents lives prior to them starting a family.

My grandfather was a competitive ballroom dancer, and soccer player in his youth, and in the photographs the dancer in him was obvious, as he appeared incredibly comfortable in his suit. My grandmother also was very graceful in the photographs - but not as relaxed as my grandfather. However she had a pleasant glow of contentment and happiness about her. 

There were a couple of other photos that we just couldn't place the people in, so I started to ask my uncle about my Grandfather's own family. But he was to emotional about the photographs to really answer my questions, and he struggled to remember who key people in the photographs were. 

That's my grandfather ' Scottie' on the right. 

There was a life in some of these photos that just flowed from them - which gave me something of a feeling about how my grandparents lived their lives. And it really rubbed in how little I knew.

I guess it was inevitable though, that my own mother would start appearing in these photos. I'd never seen anything of my mother as a child before this, and to be honest I wasn't prepared for the very mixed feelings that I had about seeing her in these photos. 

My grandfather and my mother. I have no idea why she is glowing in this scan.

Most of my memories of my mother are blurred due to the emotional loading from my mother tragically suffering from Multiple Sclerosis for over 20 years. It is impossible to describe how such a thing impacts on your family, and it becomes very hard to look back into your past and find a lot of happy memories. But they are there - if I look hard enough.

My grandfather passed away in February 2003, and my mother followed three weeks later. I moved to Brisbane, away from Melbourne a year after that. 

Even now I find my eyes welling up as I write about this. So I'll just keep this brief.

But the world, and the young girl that would later be my mother, in these photos were different. There is a feeling, a feeling of hope for the future and the beauty of living, that I didn't expect. 

As a child my mother seemed so adorable. This was a far softer image of her than the woman of my memories, where I see the ferocious fighter who spent years lobbying politicians for better support for the disabled, while she struggled with her own deteriorating body. She was a woman that despite the bad lot she had been handed, was determined to make a difference in life, and held strong beliefs about social justice, and even before she had MS, she was a very strong campaigner for women's rights amongst other things.

So, in conclusion I have some photos of my grandfather to show John when I next see him, and I even managed to start a little bit of family in-fighting by just asking for these photos. But at least a bit of family fighting is a reminder that I still have a father, a sister and an uncle - and that they still mean a lot to me. 

Thank you for reading this far.

Where the wild mechanics roam....

I'd loaded Ruby the Exxy (my car) up with a load of typewriters  and headed south to Beaudesert.  It was a nice day for a drive in the country, and John had suggested that I come out and have a bit of a typosphere hangout with him. On this occasion, I had the company of 'the impatient typewriter mechanic' - Steve Snow in the car with me who also had brought a handful of machines along for the ride.

Steve was great company for the drive, and the weather could not be more perfect for the trip. Last time I was down that way, the temperatures were exceeding 40 degrees C. This time, it was a modest 22. And soooo much more comfortable.

Which was just as well, as we spent at least 7 hours in John's workshop.

John had invited me to bring whatever machines needed the his experienced hand to look at. So I took the opportunity to bring some of my more interesting machines, which also had some faults that had to this stage proven a bit beyond my current skills.

I had three machines of a defective nature, and I had also brought two just to 'show and tell'. The 6th machine in my car was a machine I was giving John, in exchange for a surplus small air compressor that he had.

Steve also had some machines for John to look at. Chiefly, he had a Smith Premier 10A that had a few issues that he wanted to see if John could do something about.

Steve made some really interesting progress on his machine, and I think he'll be writing about it quite soon. So I'll let him tell you all about it.

Meanwhile, John took a crack at fixing the three machines of mine that I'd brought with me. We made good progress on my Olympia SG1, but it is still a bit munted in a couple of keys. We identified the problem with my beautiful pearl Olympia Monica, and a part is on its way to me already courteously of Barry Fielden in the UK - via Will Davis's Portable Typewriter Yahoo group.

John also blitzed adjusting my Remington 5's action, and after the machine's extensive repairs it is now a 100% working piece of beautiful machinery. But more on that machine soon.

However, the two machines that I had brought just to show - also got a round on John's workbench. I was happy with the operation of both machines, but now John has assessed some problems that I hadn't even thought about, and without even thinking he was making adjustments and suggestions on the two of them. It seems that John's repair man instincts seem to be forever in his blood. 

Both Steve and I had a great day. Not only did we get to get our hands on some real typewriter service tools, but we both learned an awful lot from John. I've learned how to use some of the professional's tools, and I picked up quite a few little techniques.

Watching John in action is great. He just rips through stuff that usually takes me a lot more time to achieve. And while he worked, he he was telling us magnificent stories about his working days that are very entertaining and interesting. John's been talking about getting his own blog going, which I am very excited about. Steve and I are going to give him a bit of a hand where we can.

Another great part about visiting John's place, is that we get to have a look through some of his machines. A lot of his 400+ machines are still packaged up and concealed in cardboard, bubble wrap, newspaper and old carpet. Every so often Steve and I would see a hint of something that looked sort of familiar, and we'd ask John if we could take a look. John was quite obliging, and we got to crack open the wrapping and have a look at some magnificent machines.

I was especially wrapped when I got to get my hands on a gorgeous Groma Kolibri in Burgundy. It typed better than I expected, and I now feel an urge to hunt one down for my own collection. They are such an amazing little machine!

It is easy to spend all day in John's workshop, and I always love hearing about what he's got on his workbench that is currently being worked on. Both Steve and John are great to hang with, and it is a real privilege  to been able to spend the day with them. 

Thanks Guys. Hope to catch up again soon.

Typing in the museum. Let them free!

Walking into the Charleville museum I was confronted by what I thought was an odd collection of typewriters. There was almost no information on each item, and they seemed to be just thrown into place as though they were set up for some ad-hoc type-in for really, really thin people that didn't need elbow room. 

However the ribbons were all dry, and the machines were in such an awful state that I almost felt compelled to grab my tool kit out of the back of Ruby, and start getting these machines back into some kind of working condition. Although, I also wished I could free them from their slumber, and get them back into use. 

The museum itself was a miasma of disorganisation. The displays seemed to be organised, no, mostly thrown together with similar birds of a feather - as though it were more of an antique shop that was being run by some shuffling - half blind retiree. 

But it's not a shop. It's a museum run by a shuffling - half blind retiree, along with a group of community volunteers.

One of those volunteers was present at the time, and he seemed to be just walking around in his high-vis shirt keeping an eye on me while I poked and prodded my way through the unprotected displays that were defended by the occasional 'do not touch' sign. He had a shifter-wrench in his hand, and looked very serious. 

Some items were kept safely in cabinets, but for a large part most of the pieces were just strewn about on tables or thrown into deteriorating cupboards. 

Yeah.... Don't let the lawn-mowers get in the way of your telephones.... 

So.... By now you're thinking - 4 crappy broken down typewriters and a computery-typerwritery thing? Is that all? Well.... no! Read on my friends, read on. 

I didn't dare peel back the delicate priceless foam, while a guy holding a shifter stood near by. 

Grammar correcting typewriter you say? THAT'S what I need!

Yes, everything was piled onto everything else, and it was difficult to see some of the most interesting items. I eventually went and asked the guy that was running the place if he minded if I moved bits and pieces here and there so I could have a look at some items. 

He mostly obliged, but asked me not to touch certain things. One of the odd things were the 'Delicate wax cylinders' (old recordings). 

When I informed him that I actually had some of my own and I was unlikely to touch them anyway, he just looked at me nervously. However he offered to play one for me if I'd so like. 

I declined, and continued to sticky-beak my way through the dozen rooms - including a bedroom with some amazing 1920's women's fashion on a few mannequins, and a period piece bed. The dining room (this building was the original bank, and held the council chambers) was crammed but spectacular, while the stables (filled with old carts) and garage were fascinating. Especially the rail - ambulance. 

(I.O.U. 1 Rail Ambulance photo

When I find where I put it)

 I persevered with digging through the displays, and I have to say it was very rewarding. In the process of doing so I found a couple of very significant typewriters - in some unexpected corners of the museum.

Firstly, I have to refer to the Typosphere on what this is:

Exhibit A: Honestly, I have no idea.... But it looks cool! 

At this point it may be courteous for me to tell you all about the second typewriter I found buried in an odd corner, but I'm sorry to break it to you, you'll have to wait for my next post. While the machine itself isn't really that unusual, it is the original user that makes the machine so interesting. It's the sort of thing that would be right up Rob Messenger's ally. 

So I continued to fossick and dig through most of the rooms, finding all kinds of wonderful and weird items. I thought I had explored through almost every room, when I discovered yet another room of disorganised artefacts. I had previously avoided this room, because from the doorway it appeared to be just filled with old saws and degraded farm material. 

Boy, was I wrong.... 

Crammed into the furthest corner of the main building, was a collection of old typers that had been crammed onto a desk, and shoved into a tiny booth that was surrounded by walls made from wool bale mesh.... Because that's how this museum rolls. 

This arehad a pretty specific 'do not touch' sign, with the 'DO NOT' written in red. So, while I was in the room that was too far for the shuffling blind man to walk to, and mr Spanner-fixer in the high-vis shirt had disappeared, I naturally felt that this was an appropriate time to stick my fingers onto as many keys and levers as I could. 

After all, you don't find a linotype setup every day.... 

And can I just say... it is the first upstrike typewriter I have ever typed on. 

So... Well yes... I'll just shut up for a moment and shove some more photos onto this page. 

I want one.... 

Meh... My remington 16 looks cooler.

...... You get the picture. 

OH! Here's the rail Ambulance. 

Anyway, I've got quite a lot of photos from this museum. However I'm not going to turn this blog into 'Uncle Arthur's Slideshow night'. I'm saving a few for the next post naturally, but for now I think I've bored you enough for the time being - with the photos that were taking from my iPhone. And if Adowa  swings by, I even have a shot of some interesting antique sewing machines. 

So I hope you enjoyed this typewriter lover's casual trip around the Charleville museum... 

Oh, and here's a quick snap of was the museum looked like from outside. 

Coming up: The typewriter of the outback.....