My best friend and I were chatting it up on Facebook last month. We share the same birth month – both emotionally cryptic Piceans – and we tend to celebrate in style: right from the 4th through the 9th (our respective dates).
We often joke that it’s the longest month of the year so we might as well just party for the entire 31 days. Seems to have worked for the past 20-odd years since we’ve been friends.
Anyway, she brought up the fact that her man got her a really cool, old timer typewriter for her birthday. I was so envious, as my mother had been looking for one for me for the past umpteen years with no luck. Mom even called on her friend, the antique hunter, to keep her eyes open. No one was having any luck.
So when Max (that’s my BFF) told me she had just got one for her special day, I was thrilled for her. We tend to do lots of the same things – together or apart.
It was a few days later when she called me and said my gift had arrived and when could we get together for lunch. “I found you a typewriter!” She was pretty excited, and I was stumped for words.
“It was owned by a reporter for the Winnipeg Press,” Max said. “Kind of suits you, being a reporter and all.”
His wife sold it to the guy she bought it from. It dates back to the early 1900s, and I’m still trying to find out some more information about the original owner.
When I unveiled the 35-pound steal beast – it was wrapped in its original Underwood plastic cover – the 100-year-old machine was in pretty great shape… dust motes and all! The black paint on the space bar is worn down to the wood. The red/black ribbon still has ink as I carefully threaded a piece of white paper into the roller.
“THE MILL ON THE HILL WILL SEND A BILL FOR A SILL.”
The first sentence I ever typed was on an old Underwood, some 40 years ago. It reminded me of that day so long ago and to me, that was the best gift of all.
Thanks Max – for bringing back to me, a little piece of my childhood.
