So, it’s come to this…

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here. (Dante, The Inferno)

“Hi!  How can I help you?” (Matt, New England Typewriter)

I’m not a fan of social media.  It probably comes as no surprise that someone in my profession would stake such a claim, but as I recently turned forty, I realize my life has toed a line between analog and digital ages in a way that often leaves me feeling a bit lacking in either direction, although more so the latter.  While born after the heights of popular typewriter use, as a material necessity rather than the object of hobbyist resurgence, I actually did use a manual typewriter as a kid, composing short, one-page stories in my spare time on an ugly, little Facit 1620 (still my all-time favorite typewriter…come at me).  Likewise, I remember taking penmanship classes and learning the Dewey Decimal System and spinning vinyl records on a miniature, portable turntable with Winnie-the-Pooh on its exterior casing.  Meanwhile, my high-school typing classes were conducted in a room jampacked with desktop computers; I remember a time when Amazon only sold books; I remember when Amazon was a river; and, Facebook reached my university during my freshman year—at the time, it was used mostly for scheduling study groups with classmates.  Regardless, I still resorted to emailing and calling friends, confirming meet-ups, even as the number of online users crested a then-mind-blowing one-million.

The way social media platforms have evolved and integrated themselves into everyday life astounds me still.  I left Facebook well over a decade ago, as the first soupçons of overt and unapologetic false information, bigotry, etc., infiltrated the site.  As time passed, however, I found people less and less receptive to answering phone calls and emails.  Special offers from businesses I frequented, local and national outlets alike, were pitched through social media, and ONLY through social media, and special-event announcements, breaking news, and personal updates from friends found their way less and less to me through erstwhile preferred means.  So, like it or not, I resubscribed to Facebook, but did as little as possible on there as I could.  Whereas my “friends” list prior to closing my first account numbered probably somewhere over 500, I kept (and continue to keep) a culled number of just under 150 connections, to date.

Instagram proved a significantly harder nut to crack.  From the time I decided to re-involve myself with Facebook, I had zero desire in joining other sites.  Only when I decided to found my own business did I take the dreaded step of opening an Instagram account, strictly for purposes of the LLC.  Upon first opening my account, the platform thought I was a bot.  Maybe it was the fact the word “Typewriter” was prominent within my screenname, and in the 21st century no less, or maybe it was the scattershot way in which I tried to edit and reedit posts—either way, I came narrowly close to being locked out a few times, until I linked the business accounts from Facebook and Instagram together.  To this day, I’m not sure exactly how Instagram works, if I’m using it right, or if there’s a better way to optimize processes.  C’est la vie!

But I digress…

During my lifetime, social media has become a lynchpin in the fundamental act of self-promotion, for better or worse.  As a business owner, I’m stifled, and stupefied, by the prospect of life without it.  To date, it’s where I interact most with customers, potential customers, and people with the simple question, “Why do you do what you do?”  Since my apprenticeship at Cambridge Typewriter, I tried my best to stretch myself in Facebook typewriter groups, presenting my work, interesting typewriter finds, curious repair solutions, and, most importantly (and relevant to this blog), slice-of-life stories.  From the very get-go, I found people were interested in hearing not just about typewriters, but the goings-on of a typewriter repair shop—from the customers who entered, hoping to purchase a particular kind of machine, only to fall in love with something else entirely for the most personal (and sometimes emotional) reasons, to the many dogs yanking their masters toward the musky smells diffusing from the shop on humid days when the front door was propped open.  (Cambridge Typewriter didn’t have air conditioning, and it could get oppressively hot inside during the summer.)

Apart from “likes” and “hearts” each story accumulated, I was taken aback by the comments I received.  With more frequency than I ever anticipated, people reflected on how much they “loved the story.”  Even today, as I post on my Facebook and Instagram pages, people tell me how much they enjoy the stories I tell.  It’s not just the photos of refurbished typewriters, it’s the words.

Be that as it may, social media has limits on how much can be shared, textually.  Along similar, restrictive lines, moderators tend to focus on, and subjectively judge (and block), content as self-promotional.  So, while one person may scan a post and see a wonderful little blurb about someone enjoying their visit to a typewriter shop, another may feel said narrative is intended to advertise the business in question.

Taking in hand social media’s restrictions, as well as weekly excitations from visitors to New England Typewriter, regarding anecdotes I share about one thing or another around the shop, I’ve decided to start a blog, delivered exclusively through the NET website.  While I still plan to update my social media accounts frequently, this blog will be an attempt to either give posts made on social media a little more background/flavor or provide entirely new accounts of life inside/outside a typewriter shop, which would otherwise seem cumbersome or ill-suited to the empirical rigidity of social media.  Granted, this isn’t “the typewriter repairman’s experience”; this is ONE typewriter repairman’s experience.

Also worth noting: this blog allows me an outlet to, once again, return to typing.  While I repair many machines per week, I’m usually so tired after a day’s labor, I don’t have time or energy or dexterity of flexors, and therefore inclination, to compose anything.  In contrast, I intend, no matter the mental flogging required to do so, to typewrite initial drafts for all blogs, prior to transcription and editing (such as it is) on a computer.

I think it’s fair to state the goal of this blog is not in any way to be a “how-to” for maintaining typewriters; likewise, no information provided within the posts of this blog are meant to be advisory in nature.  These are personal stories, opinions, thoughts, and words, strung together by someone whose presence within this discipline is as happenstance as identical snowflakes not only existing, but anthropomorphizing and renting an apartment in “the big city,” only for situational, and comical, shenanigans to ensue.  (Think “Friends”, but it’s always under 32°F.)  Additionally, this blog is meant to be a bit stream-of-consciousness in nature—more Bolaño than Woolf, but exhibiting far less talent.  Some posts may deal with the shop, others with matters of a personal nature.  There may be occasional poetry, essays, book/movie reviews, short stories, etc.

What this blog will NOT be is a political or religious echo chamber of any kind.  There are plenty of outlets for that kind of [expletive deleted] elsewhere.  Yes, this blog may be, perhaps, challenging at times, but not in a pontifical, ego-massaging, or heavy-handed way—with respect to the recently deceased Val Kilmer, less “Ice Man” and more “Chris Knight”…and, if you get that reference, you’ve come to the right place.  And, if you don’t, I’m sure it will be covered in a future post, as Real Genius is my second-favorite film, behind only 2001: A Space Odyssey.

In short, all are welcome here!

Until next time…