Tonight I read about a man who carried his Smith-Corona around with him for years, but did not use it for a very long time. When he finally did, he discovered something about himself, indeed a few things; things he wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t lugged that ancient typewriter around with him like talisman.
My first typewriter was a Smith-Corona. I was not so attached to it. When a proto-version word processor/typewriter came out, I ditched the old Smith-Corona. It probably sits in some landfill somewhere, though the romantic in me would like to believe that it has all these long years since graced a dusty corner in an old shop selling the sewing machines, typewriters, irons, and such from decades ago, as a sort of mascot of the place.