Free AI web copilot to create summaries, insights and extended knowledge, download it at here

1846

Abstract

ably point out that I am a bit of a typewriter freak. I have owned at least two dozen of them during my lifetime. But I have not owned one in around fifteen years. Seriously, it has been that long!</p><p id="19f5">There was a time when I owned five typewriters all at the same time! How cool is that? When it came time to start a novel it was like, “Okay, which one of you babies wanna be the one?”</p><p id="5d51">Once, while living in Los Angeles in the early Eighties, I bought a high-end electric Remington typewriter that was once owned by Lucille Ball’s secretary! At least that is what the woman at the yard sale told me.</p><p id="4ee2">I am not one of those weird humans who have to name everything. Yes, I name pets but I never name cars or appliances or typewriters or other inanimate objects. That’s just silly. I know people (mostly female) who name every car they have ever driven. That is like naming a pet that you know will soon die.</p><p id="9e44">It did not matter not knowing if that Remington ever felt the fingertips of Lucille Ball’s secretary. I broke with custom and named that typewriter, <b><i>Red</i></b>, in honor of the great female comedian. Red was probably my favorite typewriter of all time — and, like I said, I’ve had a lot. Together, she and I put out a lot of great shit back then in the Eighties. She sure knew my fingertips!</p><p id="aa57">I eventually sold Red in order to buy a bus ticket. How cool is that? How fucking Eighties is that? Yes, I’ve had a lot of typewriters in my life but they all vanished into the night. My fingertips ached for their touch but I always moved on to new typewriters and new things to be written.</p><p id="6a65">So up until today I have not owned a typewriter in around fifteen years. I owned my first typewriter when I was just eleven years old. This means that I have

Options

recently gone longer without owning a typewriter than I have ever gone in my entire life!</p><p id="7a05"><b>How scary is that?</b></p><p id="79ea">But I can’t say that anymore because now I suddenly own a typewriter. I was reminded of that a minute ago when I got up to pee. On the way to the bathroom I passed my Play Room and I stole a glance at my new unopened typewriter sitting on that table. It was like looking at a lover from forty-five years ago. I almost ran into the wall.</p><p id="8d65">The sun is about to go down but I will miss the sunset because of the persistent gr<b>a</b>y clouds and snow shower. I am living in the winter from hell.</p><p id="2f6c">Before reaching the kitchen I decided to look out the front window. It was still light enough for me to take a good look at my ‘hood. I looked across the street, I looked at the falling snow, I looked down at the front porch and at all the adjacent sidewalks.</p><p id="0505">Luckily, I did not spot any men in white coats.</p><p id="4a41"><i>Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved.</i> <a href="https://readmedium.com/white-feather-archive-index-c95167f7dbaf"><b>Writings of White Feather</b></a></p><p id="0733"><i>Here is another weird story…</i></p><div id="1c5e" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/the-czechoslovakian-burrito-6b0b81805523"> <div> <div> <h2>The Czechoslovakian Burrito</h2> <div><h3>By White Feather. A culinary journey wrapped in a tortilla</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*NfTJKgxAs32u4GnHd1BDNA.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

I Bought a Typewriter!

What the hell was I thinking?

I thought it was going to be just another ordinary day today. But it wasn’t! No, today I bought a typewriter!

It is because of the psychic premonitions I’ve been having the last couple of days. I’ve been getting these flashes of a typewriter. I see it clear as day sitting on a little table in the local Presbyterian thrift store. Or maybe it’s Lutheran or Episcopalian or something else. I don’t keep track of that stuff. There was a price sticker on the typewriter of $5.

So earlier this afternoon I went for a walk in the snow. Today’s little snowstorm is nothing compared to the blizzard we’re supposed to have tomorrow. It is a good thing I went out and did all my stuff today.

Well, because of those darn premonitions I stopped at the local Protestant thrift store. After a couple of minutes walking around I came to a little table on top of which sat a typewriter! It was the very same typewriter that I kept seeing in my premonitions. And it had a $5 price sticker on it!

What would you do? Without even examining it I picked it up and took it to the counter and bought it. Seriously, if you want your psychic powers to work you’ve got to trust them.

So the typewriter is sitting in its case on the table in my Play Room. I haven’t opened it yet or examined it or touched my fingertips to its keyboard yet. I am doing other stuff while I wonder why the hell I bought a typewriter.

Seriously, why would anyone buy a typewriter?

I should probably point out that I am a bit of a typewriter freak. I have owned at least two dozen of them during my lifetime. But I have not owned one in around fifteen years. Seriously, it has been that long!

There was a time when I owned five typewriters all at the same time! How cool is that? When it came time to start a novel it was like, “Okay, which one of you babies wanna be the one?”

Once, while living in Los Angeles in the early Eighties, I bought a high-end electric Remington typewriter that was once owned by Lucille Ball’s secretary! At least that is what the woman at the yard sale told me.

I am not one of those weird humans who have to name everything. Yes, I name pets but I never name cars or appliances or typewriters or other inanimate objects. That’s just silly. I know people (mostly female) who name every car they have ever driven. That is like naming a pet that you know will soon die.

It did not matter not knowing if that Remington ever felt the fingertips of Lucille Ball’s secretary. I broke with custom and named that typewriter, Red, in honor of the great female comedian. Red was probably my favorite typewriter of all time — and, like I said, I’ve had a lot. Together, she and I put out a lot of great shit back then in the Eighties. She sure knew my fingertips!

I eventually sold Red in order to buy a bus ticket. How cool is that? How fucking Eighties is that? Yes, I’ve had a lot of typewriters in my life but they all vanished into the night. My fingertips ached for their touch but I always moved on to new typewriters and new things to be written.

So up until today I have not owned a typewriter in around fifteen years. I owned my first typewriter when I was just eleven years old. This means that I have recently gone longer without owning a typewriter than I have ever gone in my entire life!

How scary is that?

But I can’t say that anymore because now I suddenly own a typewriter. I was reminded of that a minute ago when I got up to pee. On the way to the bathroom I passed my Play Room and I stole a glance at my new unopened typewriter sitting on that table. It was like looking at a lover from forty-five years ago. I almost ran into the wall.

The sun is about to go down but I will miss the sunset because of the persistent gray clouds and snow shower. I am living in the winter from hell.

Before reaching the kitchen I decided to look out the front window. It was still light enough for me to take a good look at my ‘hood. I looked across the street, I looked at the falling snow, I looked down at the front porch and at all the adjacent sidewalks.

Luckily, I did not spot any men in white coats.

Here is another weird story…

The Czechoslovakian Burrito

By White Feather. A culinary journey wrapped in a tortilla

medium.com