Tuesday, September 3, 2013


Swintec is one of the last surviving typewriter companies in the U.S., although these days its machines are made in Japan and Indonesia.  Brother International Corp., a Japan-based company with U.S. headquarters in Bridgewater, N.J., still sells typewriters, although unlike Swintec its business is diverse, including everything from printers to sewing machines.  A spokeswoman says typewriter sales have been slightly declining every year for the past 10 years and are one of its smallest categories, but she declined to give specific numbers.  Swinstec flirted with trendy new products such as photocopiers and fax machines but decided to stick with its strength.  "We're typewriters," Mr. Michael says.  "This is our specialty.  This is what we know."  Mr. Michael, 70 years old, started at the company in 1985 as a traveling salesman.  "It was growing and growing and growing.  I thought:  'This will never end,' " he says, on a recent tour of the company's headquarters in Moonachie, N.J., just outside of New York City.  The boom years didn't last.  Though Swintec is profitable, it has slimmed down to about 10 employees from about 85 employees, Mr. Michael says.  He says the company sold "thousands and thousands" of typewriters at the peak but declined to be specific.  Swintec still sells about 3,000 to 5,000 typewriters a year, to customers including universities, senior centers and state and federal prisons.  Typewriters persist, experts say, because personal computers fail to perform some functions with equal efficiency:  Filling out a form in a PDF file can require on-screen acrobatics that frustrate many workers.  Printing an address on an envelope that isn't upside down or sideways requires a certain amount of expertise.  "Things stick around long after you think they would have disappeared," says Darren Wershler, a professor at Concordia University in Montreal who has written about typewriters.  "The future is already here.  It's just unevenly distributed."  In Jersey City, two 1980s-era typewriters are kept at City Hall to fill out marriage certificates and personnel forms.  Mayor Steve Fulop, a 36-year-old former Wall Street analyst, was elected in May promising to modernize the city's politics, but he says typewriters won't fall victim. "Those things are staying, as long as I'm in office, I can assure you that," Mr. Fulop says.  "It's a nice touch."  On "The Wire," a police drama that aired in the 2000s, Baltimore detectives pounded out warrants on electric typewriters.  In reality, some law-enforcement agencies still use them.  The Philadelphia Police Department has about 200 typewriters to write property receipts and search warrants, a spokesman said.  Swintec thrived on this type of government business, but sales were declining by the late 1990s.  Then the company stumbled on an idea:  a clear typewriter for prisons.  The company's owner, Dominic Vespia, says they were inspired by other transparent products designed to prevent smuggling of contraband, from televisions to toothpaste tubes.  Laura Kusisto  http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424127887323639704579013240996151948.html?mod=WSJ_hp_EditorsPicks 

Journalist and author John Griffith Chaney, better known as Jack London, was born on January 12, 1876, in San Francisco, California.  Jack, as he came to call himself as a boy, was the son of Flora Wellman, an unwed mother, and William Chaney, an attorney, journalist and pioneering leader in the new field of American astrology.  His father was never part of his life, and his mother ended up marrying John London, a Civil War veteran, who moved his new family around the Bay Area before settling in Oakland.  Jack London grew up working-class.  He carved out his own hardscrabble life as a teen.  He rode trains, pirated oysters, shoveled coal, worked on a sealing ship on the Pacific and found employment in a cannery.  In his free time he hunkered down at libraries, soaking up novels and travel books.  His life as a writer essentially began in 1893.  That year he had weathered a harrowing sealing voyage, one in which a typhoon had nearly taken out London and his crew.  The 17-year-old adventurer had made it home and regaled his mother with his tales of what had happened to him.  When she saw an announcement in one of the local papers for a writing contest, she pushed her son to write down and submit his story.  Armed with just an eighth-grade education, London captured the $25 first prize, beating out college students from Berkeley and Stanford.  For London, the contest was an eye-opening experience, and he decided to dedicate his life to writing short stories.  But he had trouble finding willing publishers.  After trying to make a go of it on the East Coast, he returned to California and briefly enrolled at the University of California at Berkeley, before heading north to Canada to seek at least a small fortune in the gold rush happening in the Yukon.  By the age of 22, however, London still hadn't put together much of a living.  He had once again returned to California and was still determined to carve out a living as a writer.  In 1899 he began publishing stories in the Overland Monthly.  The experience of writing and getting published greatly disciplined London as a writer.  From that time forward, London made it a practice to write at least a thousand words a day.  London found fame and some fortune at the age of 27 with his novel The Call of the Wild (1903), which told the story of a dog that finds its place in the world as a sled dog in the Yukon.  http://www.biography.com/people/jack-london-9385499  See also:  http://jacklondonpark.com/jack-london-biography.html 

Quote from Ladder of Years by Anne Tyler   See, I've always pictured life as one of those ladders you find on playground sliding boards--a sort of ladder of years where you climb higher and higher, and then, oops!, you fall over the edge and others move up behind you.nkis

Pinkie used as a term for the little finger is actually quite old.  Though it is now often thought of as an American term, it began its life in Scotland — the first recorded example, from 1808, is in John Jamieson’s An Etymological Dictionary of the Scottish Language.  You might think that it is called pinkie because European little fingers are usually coloured pink, but this isn’t so (though its modern survival might owe something to this idea).  It derives from a much older sense of pinkie for something tiny, which in turn comes from one meaning of the adjective pink.  This adjective came into Scots from Dutch.  It appeared first as part of the phrase pink eye for a half-shut or peering eye (from old Dutch pinck ooghen, which may well be the source of the modern Dutch verb pinkogen, to half close the eyes or squint).  In modern Dutch pink means the little finger, so it might look as though the American pinkie comes directly from it.  The evidence, though, is that Scots played a key intermediate role.  The sense of the colour, by the way, came from the flower called the pink, whose name probably derives from pink eye, perhaps because of the folded petals that made the flower look a bit like a half-closed eye, or possibly from a completely separate sense of pink that referred to making holes or scalloped edges in cloth (as in pinking shears), because of the crinkled edges of the petals.  http://www.worldwidewords.org/qa/qa-pin1.htm 

EIGHT STEPS TO PERFECT PASTA
1.  For every one pound of pasta, bring 5 quarts of water to a rolling boil.  Once water is boiling, then add about 2 tbsp. of coarse salt, or 1/4 cup table salt.
2.  Stir to keep the pasta from sticking.  Stir within the first 2 minutes of cooking pasta.  The pasta is more likely to stick together, in the beginning, before the starches are released into the water.
3.  Place the lid back on the pot to help bring the water back to a boil.  This is an essential moment, because if you don't, the pasta will be sitting in hot water, resulting in mushy pasta.
4.  Once the pot is boiling again, remove the lid for the remaining cook time to prevent the pasta from boiling over.  This is where you need to actually stand there and watch the pot.
5.  Follow the package directions for cook times.  As a general guideline: perfectly cooked pasta that is "al dente," or firm to the bite, yet cooked through, requires you to test it yourself when the time is close.  You may need to test the pasta 2 or 3 times before it’s just right.
6.  Once your pasta is ready, turn off the heat and scoop out 1 cup of pasta cooking water.  Reserved pasta water contains essential starch that can be used later to adjust the consistency of your sauce, from thickening it to thinning it.
7.  Quickly drain the pasta into a colander in the sink.  Do not rinse the pasta.  Not only is the starch in the water is what helps the sauce adhere to your pasta, but rinsing will cool the pasta and prevent absorption of your sauce.  The only time you should ever rinse your pasta is when you are going to use it in a cold dish like a pasta salad.  In cases such as those, rinsing the pasta helps to stop the cooking process.
8.  Toss pasta in a warmed saucepan with your prepared sauce.  You don’t want to drain the pasta all that well, you want your pasta to be loosely drained, still retaining some pasta water. Cook together for about 2 minutes.

More on Seamus Heaney, word animator by Robert Faggen
Thirty years ago, I became a graduate teaching fellow in a popular undergraduate course at Harvard University called Modern Anglo-Irish Poetry.  What made it popular?  The subject matter was certainly rich.  But the professor, Seamus Heaney, was the special attraction.  He was already a major figure in the poetic landscape; we watched him artfully mapping its peculiar geography.  With stunningly fresh language, his poetry dug deep into the roots of human attachments but also of human violence.  The author of the stunning pastorals "The Glanmore Sonnets" also created the haunting Dantean poems of "Station Island."  His versions of Sophocles, "The Cure at Troy" and "The Burial at Thebes," reached to the heart of human suffering and alienation.  His work embraced a vision of hope and the possibility of seeing, as he titled one poem, "From the Republic of Conscience."  And he made a fool of Woody Allen ("Never take a course where they make you read 'Beowulf'") by making his version of the Old English epic a bestseller.  But Heaney was that rare thing, an unofficial international poet laureate who had become an ambassador for the entire institution of poetry.  In addition to publishing more than a dozen volumes of poetry, along with translations and several volumes of essays, Heaney spent much of the second half of his life teaching and lecturing around the world.  While teaching at Harvard, he would arrange social gatherings for the teaching fellows, providing generous rounds of food and drink.  He channeled our overheated graduate student intellectual energies into fun, encouraging us to sing songs or recite favorite poems.  These sessions would go on for many fine hours flowing with all varieties of song and whiskey.   http://www.latimes.com/books/jacketcopy/la-et-jc-seamus-heaney-appreciation-20130902,0,2053480.story

No comments: