Remington Home for the Holidays

It seemed like it would be a tragedy to be homeless, going into the holiday season. Things started looking pretty grim for myself, shortly after my last update. The tale is one of woe and intrigue, but I prefer not to relive or reiterate it.  Suffice to say that I've made a sort of peace with the darkness, preserving a place to rest my head for a while longer.

Another thing which had no proper place to call home was the Remington DeLuxe 5 which I purchased during warmer weather. The original carry case had served it well, but at the ultimate cost. The factory box donated the internal hardware related to securing the machine inside, but nothing could be salvaged of the hinges, the latch (without a key, anyway), or the handle. Bright brass fittings were purchased and a leather handle was stitched up. It took a while, but you can see the results.

Ever the fan of irony, I should admit that one of the motivating factors was the desire to take the Model 5 to write-ins during NaNoWriMo. Last year's sporadic participation was well-received when I showed up with a typewriter in-hand. A fancier case seemed like an additional touch of class for this year, or would have been, ahad I not been distracted by non-literary brushfires to put out.

 

Perhaps, with the advent of a new year, life will stabilize and slow down to the point where the red Remington can get out, once in a while, and do some composing.

 

Happy New Year, to everyone in the Typosphere.

 

Where'd the pretty trees go?

On the way to work, this morning, I was stricken by the rapid onset of Winter weather. It seems like only last week that I was thinking I should get the camera out for some Fall foliage photography.  Suddenly, I'm looking at trees with a dusting of frost.  The really awesome part is that the underlying colors are still there, resulting in a mid-morning fade from white to blazing reds, oranges, and yellows.

Eleven days until Black Friday

Well, the internet is down, again, on my homefront. The modem I was renting from the cable company was old enough to arouse age-related suspicions, so I replaced it. A nice lady at the internet provider changed the registration numbers and had me back online for a night or two. An even nicer lady took me through a bunch of diagnostics before scheduling a field technician to visit on Saturday. When all was said and done, the brand new computer I had purchased, sixty-six days before, has a bad ethernet port. And, as we go into Thanksgiving week and all the online, Black Friday deals, I’m looking at a minimum of two weeks without being able to reach the internet from home.


You do know what that means, don’t you? It means I have to behave myself, whether I want to or not. I won’t be able to even see all the deals I can’t pass up, at prices I can’t afford, for things I don’t even want or need. At the end of next week, I should be no worse for wear... which is more than I can say for those sorry souls who will be camped out, all night, waiting to bludgeon each other into jelly over the latest iThingy.

I’m already anticipating the lack of remorse over missing out on all that.

Couldn't have said it better, myself.

My girlfriend is having a bad day, and I'm not afraid to share that with my warm circle of friends. The election is past. The campaign ads can stop now.  But, the partisan-political arguments keep going... and going.  She's fed up with it, and she's eloquent in her righteous anger:  http://aliceincyberland1.blogspot.com/

The best way to defeat intolerance is to be tolerant.  I don't agree with a lot of things people say and do, but I respect their rights to say and do them... as long as they don't interfere with my right to say and do what I want to.

When was the last time someone in the Typosphere vented about how their favorite typewriter or choice of fountain pen was vastly superior to someone else's?  I can't recall ever seeing it.  I vote for employing this live-and-let-live attitude in daily life.  Everybody with me?

Belated, post-election optimism

In the aftermath of election day, I had what I thought was a pretty good, thought-provoking blog essay with which to update, yesterday. Three notebook pages into developing the idea, though, it was clear that a thorough examination of the topic was too complicated to fit into one posting. Also, there was a recognizable partisanship in the word choices, largely because I was trying to be objectively non-partisan.

Suffice it to say that we have the government that we have. Nothing can be done to change the icky bits until the next election. However, it is possible to find way to work with, and work around, the limitations with which we are stuck. If a person is worried about losing their healthcare coverage, for instance, now would be an excellent time to take personal responsibility for not getting sick. Goodness knows, most Americans could tolerate a more vigorous lifestyle with better diet and more exercise.

Dearer to my heart are the capitalistic business opportunities which exist under an ostensibly socialist government. I got really bogged down in enumerating possibilities to knock out unemployment, build new infrastructures, and get the economy rolling.  For instance, if the President likes the idea of a high-speed rail system, then the existing railroad corporations have an opportunity to step up, hire a bunch of people, and promote themselves as a viable (and safe) alternative to obscenely expensive air travel.

But then again, I've always liked trains...

Shrodinger's Lottery Ticket

I need to check my lottery ticket against the results of last night’s drawn numbers. After all, it’s not like hard work and perseverance can get anyone out of the financial crisis we call modern life. How much easier would it be to simply succeed by means of divine intervention?  It's not a game of chance, when God doesn't play dice with the Universe, is it?


And yet...  And yet, I hesitate. It’s like this, every time I lay my money down for a chance at winning a life-saving jackpot. Desperation drives me to invest in blind hope, and then I haven’t the courage to face the outcome. What if it’s not a winner? What if the statistical odds against winning continue to hold?

What I seem to have purchased is Schrodinger’s Lottery Ticket. As long as I don’t check the outcome of the drawing, the ticket is winning and losing, simultaneously. According to the observer effect, often mistaken for the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle, the potentials for hope or despair would be ruined by verifying the status of the ticket.

Okay, that should serve as a blog update for today.  Now, I think I'll go back to watching old episodes of The Big Bang Theory.  I always learn so much about life from Sheldon.

In support of a contented spirit

I had been wanting to do some sort of bloggish essay about what I think of as the secular-materialist world’s Culture of Discontent. However, I really didn’t want it to be all dark and negative. And then, last night, I was asked a question that made me focus my thoughts. And, because my home internet is inexplicably non-functional, I felt the need to post two days worth of pontification.


The culture of discontent is a philosophy held by the past generations. Our parents and grandparents believe what they believe, and there is nothing anyone can do to change it. However, there does seem to be an active backlash among some of their disenchanted offspring. Sub-cultures like the Typosphere, vintage enthusiasts, and even the often-weird Steampunk movement have an attitude at odds with their parents’ insecurity and greed.

What I call the culture of discontent is the product of post-war affluence. Urbanization was increasing, as was industrialization. Wartime manufacturing capacity continued to be up. Television came on the scene to promote consumerism. Encouraging people to exercise vigorous spending habits would keep the economy in motion as people filled their homes with labor-saving devices. And, with less effort required to maintain daily life, more time could be spent on leisure activities... like watching television with all its advertising. Where it once enticed consumers with the idea of simply owning a car, advertising came to convey the message that last year’s model was grossly outdated.

That culture of discontent, learning not to be satisfied with anything for very long, now seems to have pervaded every aspect of modern life. The iPhone 4 that you bought a couple weeks ago is nothing compared to the iPhone 5... unless you actually bother to compare them. According to one Best Buy salesman, when I was shopping for a new computer, Windows 8 is little more than version 7, modified for tablets and phones. Consumers are expected to toss out their not-very-old products when something more shiny is dangled in front of them.

If my occasional readers scroll back a few blog entries, they will see my desk and chair and my reworked Remington DeLuxe 5 typewriter. The first two, I made by virtue of my own designs and considerable effort. The latter, I refurbished with my own time and mechanical skills. In short, I did it myself.

That seems to be the nature of the counter-culture backlash now being seen at the fringes of modern, consumerist society. There is a rising appreciation for do-it-yourself-ism, whether it be cleaning up and utilizing the durable goods of eighty and ninety years ago or the non-digital, unplugged creativity of independent artists. Even now, thousands and thousands of aspiring wordsmiths are burning the midnight oil, without the benefit of a publishing contract, to simply tell the stories which they alone can write. Meanwhile, I’m seeing more interest in “fiber crafts” like knitting. And, of course, there is that whole Steampunk sub-culture, with its admiration for a time when mankind ruled over machines, air travel by zeppelin was terrorism-free – except for the airship pirates – and adventure could be found in some remote, undiscovered corner of the globe.

If we of these various sub-cultures are discontented about anything, it is probably the emptiness of modern society. For all their social climbing and competitive spending, the cubicle-dwelling sofa monkeys really have no aspirations. They just want a distraction from their discontent.  We, the lucky and the misunderstood few, have a capacity to find contentment without expending our resources on ephemeral thrills and extrernal stimulations.