Typewriters redux

"Do I Dare to Eat a Peach #2'' (encaustic), by Nancy Whitcomb.

"Do I Dare to Eat a Peach #2'' (encaustic), by Nancy Whitcomb.

Adapted from Robert Whitcomb's "Digital Diary, '' in GoLocal24.com

The Boston Guardian reports that Uber is cutting into the valet parking business in downtown Boston.  Lots of people like Uber services (if not the sleazy management of the company) because, for among other reasons, it makes it safer to drink in the evening. Will valet parking soon be a thing of the past?

But one old thing is making a tiny comeback: typewriters. Lots of people like their tactile quality as they see letters move from their fingers to a sheet of paper. It gives a nice feeling of making something physical.

Of course I suspect that there are very few typewriter makers left, and very few repair people. But there may soon be more of the latter. Interest has been building for a decade at least.

Richard Polt, an Xavier University (in Cincinnati) philosophy professor, has written a book called The Typewriter Revolution: A Typist's Companion for the 21st Century.

I love the promotional copy:

“What do thousands of kids, makers, poets, artists, steampunks, hipsters, activists, and musicians have in common? They love typewriters―the magical, mechanical contraptions that are enjoying a surprising second life in the 21st century, striking a blow for self-reliance, privacy, and coherence against dependency, surveillance, and disintegration.’’ Get away from those Twitter alerts!

As the Internet becomes even more toxic,  and digital burnout intensifies, the fondness for typewriters may grow enough so that somebody starts making them again.

There’s even a new documentary coming out called California Typewriter.  In the film, its director, Doug Nichol, interviews actor Tom Hanks, who says he uses a typewriter almost every day. Mr. Hanks is said to own about 270 typewriters.

"I hate getting email thank-yous from folks," Mr. Hanks says in the film. "Now, if they take 70 seconds to type me out something on a piece of paper and send to me, well, I'll keep that forever. I'll just delete that email."

I’d love to be able to work again on that huge old office Royal typewriter on which I used to pound out stories at the old Boston Herald Traveler in 1970-71. It took immense abuse in that smoky, caffeinated, high-pressure newsroom. I’d even like to get back the tiny, tinny Olivetti portable I used for writing papers in college. Real things – not pixels.