You either love wrinkle paint or you put up with it hoping that a machine in shiny black comes your way. I happen to love the finish. It's very rugged, hides a myriad of metalwork sins, and can come in some very sober and serious colors. As great as I think this paint is, it is a magnet for dirt, grime, and crud. Dirt invariably make its way into the wrinkles and makes your typewriter look tired and grungy. However, the innate ruggedness of the paint makes it easy to clean. This is the process I use. Your mileage may vary.
To start with you need some simple supplies. A couple of soft cloths, a small Tupperware container, a household laundry detergent without dyes or perfume, an old toothbrush, a utility spray bottle, and a blue Olympia SM3 (or whatever you happen to have). As with the other How-To, I recommend you dust/wet-dust your typewriter first. It takes a minute and "Water is the best solvent."
This process assumes that your typewriter is clean on the inside. There …
To start with you need some simple supplies. A couple of soft cloths, a small Tupperware container, a household laundry detergent without dyes or perfume, an old toothbrush, a utility spray bottle, and a blue Olympia SM3 (or whatever you happen to have). As with the other How-To, I recommend you dust/wet-dust your typewriter first. It takes a minute and "Water is the best solvent."
This process assumes that your typewriter is clean on the inside. There …
'Twould be nice if everybody understood that the tap of typebars can often revive a sluggish mind.
ReplyDeleteI love these paper-in-the-carriage pic posts.
ReplyDelete(And I should be able to immediately identify that machine by the parts visible here, but it's escaping me.)
How about branching out into mechanical printing calculators?
ReplyDeleteThe machine pictured is a '50s Skyriter. I love those little machines.
ReplyDeleteRob, I have a Hermes addimg machine right here. I would really like a mechanical calculator, but I can;t seem to find one that is cheap enough.