I heard yesterday on the radio that typewriter sales have reached a 20-year high as companies are beginning to realize how little privacy they have with emails and other electronic documents. Back in 1981, after years of wanting an IBM Selectric and as I was ramping up Elite Business Services, the silver-tongued salesman at the typewriter store introduced me to the most revolutionary typewriter since the Selectric: An Underwood Olivetti ET121 Electronic. Because it was so pricey ($1700), I wrote up a formal business plan and took Daddy on as my financial partner. This morning I ran across the following description of my new typewriter (lurking under my bed at this very moment).
Stately, shiny, grandly King Olivetti reigns on his oaken throne. Hidden within his gloomy countenance are all the words of the universe, keys waiting to play the melodies of our lives. His servant waits patiently to collect the secrets of the world’s imagining, carrying paper as white as a virgin’s conscience, and as sterile.
When fortune shines, the servant is showered with kind words like soft spring rains and King Olivetti sings songs of special sweetness. But a misstep, a misspeak, and he hurls invective like thunderbolts at the unfortunate maiden who cowers before him.
Can you say “love-hate relationship”?