It stands to reason that most people who take the time to read blogs about typewriters, such as this one, are themselves typewriter enthusiasts. As such, I don’t feel overly awkward about asking if you remember what your first typewriter smelled like. Well, do you? I ask in part because I already know that I’ll likely never forget what this 1966 Olympia SM9 that I am using to type this entry with smells like.
The truth is, I love the way that this typewriter smells. It wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve been fond of the smell of a machine. When I was a kid, I loved the smell of 2-stroke motorcycles — the kind that required that you mix the oil and gas together at a certain ratio. I’m not saying that this was particularly good for me, or for the environment for that matter. But I am saying that the smell of the exhaust fumes put out by the the dirt bikes that I rod as a young person was a very endearing thing to me. I can still remember that smell to this day.
Undoubtedly, the lingering smell of a typewriter is far healthier for me to breathe in than 2-stroke motorcycle fumes, so typewriters have that going for them. The reality is that I like the way that quite a few of my various typewriters smell, but none of them nearly as much as this particular Olympia. Each time that I take it out of the case to begin a typing session, I get a big whiff of this machine’s unique odor. That always strikes me as a great way to start things off when it comes to typing with this particular typewriter.
Some might assume that I’m simply, somehoe mechanically infaturated with this SM9 as it was the first typewriter that I ever bought. But I don’t think that this fact has anything to do with my fondness for the way it smells. (If you’re one of the rare few who might be reading this who isn’t a typewriter enthusiast, don’t worry as I won’t even bother trying to explain any of this to you.) I didn’t dare try to explain my infatuation with dirt bikes when I was a kid with other kids who weren’t interested. While I’m now talking about typewriters instead of motorcycles, I’m now to old to worry about what anyone else might think about any of this.
One thing is for certain, whether people happen to share my sentiments or not, I’m definitely not the only one who pays attention to the way that typewriters smell. The owner of Ace Typewriter was recently telling me about the lengths that some would go to in order to mask the smell of their typewriters. He added that he wasn’t sure why this was, noting that he himself happend to like the way that typewriters smell.
Amen to that.
AFTERTHOUGHTS: I recently posted about a 1955 Voss ST24 that I acquired and am working to free from the grip of smoke damage brought on by the wildfires that ravaged much of Oregon in 2020. Understandably, that typewriter has been weighing heavily on my mind lately. So when I sat down yesterday to write a letter using my 1966 Olympia SM9, I was struck by the night and day difference in the way these two typewriters smelled. While the smoke remediation efforts are coming along better than expected, the Voss typewriter will never smell as good as my SM9. The scent associated with various typewriters is the result of many years of experiences, be it sitting, cleaning done, maintenance performed, whatever. While many of these machines smell quite similar, they’re all also unique in this regard. I suppose that it’s really no different than typewriters in general. (My apologies to Al Pacino for the title of this blog entry.)
Again great little story, you are getting pretty productive at his, keep it up 😉
Greetings,
Indro
Thanks again Indro. Your encouragement is much appreciated. Of course, I would encourage you to consider starting a blog of your own. I already know that you would have a wealth of actual typewriter-focused content to post just based on the small tour of the machines that you shared with everyone on TCL in the past.
You inspired me to lean over my own first typewriter — it’s still by my side after 40+ years — and take a deep whiff of its rich perfume.
Sometimes they do smell bad. When my father gave me his 1945 Corona Clipper, it was offensively moldy. The thing finally had to be dipped in bleachy hot water (and promptly dried, of course).
I’m glad to hear that you have managed to hang on to your first typewriter after all of these years — not that I was exactly surprised to read this. While every typewriter has it’s own unique scent, it it a shame that they can’t all small good.
By the way, I wanted to say thanks for joining us on Typewriter Club LIVE. It was a treat to see your original typewriter along with all of the other great machines that you had on hand.
Smell/taste can trigger some pretty strong memories. It’s a science thing. We tend to associate strong memories to smells and the smell itself can trigger them. https://miketypes.blogspot.com/2018/08/gustatory-generations.html
For me, that’s a good thing. I call this the “old things smell”. My grandfather repaired and restored old Edison phonographs, especially the cylinder players. They had that smell. I loved barn sales. I clearly recall finding and examining things when I went to them. These memories formed when I was an adolescent. (a really, really, REALLY long time ago) When I go to antique shops I can detect that aroma and I am suddenly in an old barn.
Typewriters have that smell and I find a good part of the pleasure in using them is derived from the memories they invoke.
Thanks for the comment and the link Mike, you definitely have some interesting memories that have been triggered by smell. For me personally, nothing generates such strong, distinct memories as music does. The reaction is typically immediate and and consistent from one song to the next depending on the associations that were formed with various tunes over the years.
With regards to the story that you’ve linked to, from time to time when visiting my wife’s family up in New Hampshire, they’ve spoken fondly about time spent at Rye Beach. I’m guessing that this particular location has fueled a lot of memories for many a New Englander over the years.
My Grandfather (Mom’s Dad) used to build 0-gauge model railway locomotives and run them around a track he had set up in one of the spare rooms in his house. Dad was a dairy farmer, so could never get away from the farm for more than 6 hours at a time.
It was a 4 hour drive down to Grandfather’s house, so Mom would take us two boys there for a week or so every summer. I was/am a train enthusiast, so that was always the highlight of my year. When Grandfather would get some of his big O-gauge locomotives out for me to look at, I still remember the smell of the oil he used to keep them lubricated. When the trains had been running for a while, the smell of the ozone created by the motors coupled with the smell of the warm oil was just something special to me.
My first typewriter was/is a 1949 Underwood Quiet Tab Deluxe which bought for a whole $5.00 in 1999 because I thought I could practice keyboarding on it for when we got our first computer. That idea didn’t work so well, so the machine got relegated to the garage for several years.
Fast forward a few years and I had been bitten by the typewriter bug. I had the unit professionally cleaned and serviced in 2010 by one of the few remaining typewriter repair shops here in Southern Alberta. The smell of the lubricating oil the technician used on that typewriter reminded me so much of Grandfather’s trains that I would just sit in front of that typewriter and let the smell take me back to Grandfather’s house in Dorset.
Grandfather passed away in 1994 and Grandmother in 1998, but the visits to them and staying at their house are still my favourite childhood memories.
Thanks for the comment Lester. Those are some great memories. I was more of a slot car kid myself. But interestingly enough, for a number of years there was a regional model railroad group that would meet at a location only a few blocks from our house here in Portland. They had use of the entire basement of an old lodge that was now the home of a local architect who rented this space out to them. Each year they would open up their operation to the public (I believe this was a stipulation of their rent agreement). I actually took my son one year as he was interested in trains at the time. The size/scale of their operation was very impressive. Enough so that even non-train persons could greatly appreciate it and they enjoyed a pretty good turnout onlookers as a result.
Yeah that’s one of the great perks of the typewriter experience and yes they each have their own distinct smell. My Smith Corona flat top, because of the combination of smell and body style brings back vivid memories of those mid century metal tonka trucks of all things. Smoking is a habit that I haven’t practiced in decades, for the most part the smell is entirely disgusting however depending on situations or certain weather conditions it will pleasantly remind me of a freshly lit cigarette by my father or one of my coaches smoking at a minor football practice back in the 70’s.
oh, yes. I’ve been huffing typewriters since 2010! 😀
http://munk.org/projects/typewriters/the_scent_of_a-typewriter.html
Dang Ted, consider me embarrassed to learn that I nabbed your title. Moving forward, I’m going to have to start searching the web before I continue on as I often forget just how much ground has already been covered by yourself and others over the years. My apologies.
steal away! the experience of typewriting is a shared one as well as solitary, and we’ve all tread very similar ground in our appreciation of it. (:
I swear, I just read this blog post. If you don’t understand, you will.