By Teri Blair
This is the first time I’ve done a timed, 15-minute write on my Royal Deluxe manual typewriter. I bought this green machine in Amherst, Massachusetts—Emily Dickinson’s hometown. The man at the shop told me it was the model Hemingway used. Did Emily like chocolate? She like ginger-tasting things like ginger cookies and ginger cakes if memory serves.
My first strong memory of chocolate were the Mr. Goodbars Mom had hidden in her purse. We were allowed pretty easy access to her purse (she wasn’t private about it) and she always shared pieces of her Mr. Goodbar. There was an unwritten understanding if we didn’t ask why they were always hidden there, we’d always get to have pieces. Sometimes she’d shake up the mix and have a Hershey Bar with almonds, never plain. Even now, when I want to buy her a treat she is delighted to be given either.
She told us the story of the Milky Way incident during her childhood, a guilty memory that still taints her love affair with that particular brand. She grew up in Hawick, a tiny town in Minnesota. There was one general story, the type that had the post office in one corner. Her parents would send her to the store for supplies from time to time, and she was always instructed to charge everything to John Everson’s account. Once a month her father, the town blacksmith, would get his itemized list of charged groceries. These would only be the necessities his family of nine needed. There was nothing extra to throw around during the Depression. After Mom charged the Milky Way (and stole away to a private place to eat it), she lived in mortal fear of the impending grocery bill. They’d know then. She’d lied and wasn’t worthy of their trust.
But when the bill came, not a word was said. It wasn’t until Mom was about 50 that she told her dad about it. I remember it. Even though he was a kind, gentle man, she still didn’t want to disappoint him. He smiled, I suppose, and told her in his thick Norwegian accent that it didn’t matter. Knowing him, he probably went right out and bought her another one. He was sorry he couldn’t give his kids more. When they asked him for money when they were children, he’d turn his wallet inside out to show them it was completely empty. After he died and they cleaned out his house, she found that old wallet. She keeps it on her dresser.
They were broke. It was the Depression. They lived on potatoes, headcheese, and lefse. Maybe an occasional chicken some farmer paid his welding bill with. There were bums who came to their door begging for a meal. Her mom made them a plate of their starchy food. Surely no chocolate on the plate.
NOTE: WRITING TOPIC — CHOCOLATE is the latest Writing Topic on red Ravine. Frequent guest writer Teri Blair joined QuoinMonkey in doing a Writing Practice on the topic.
Love that your mother keeps that wallet on her dresser. And love that she always gave you access to the chocolate in her purse. And that she still smiles at the gift of a Hershey Bar. I think I would like your mother a whole lot.
My mother kept a drawer of candy in the kitchen to which we always had access, too. It’s interesting to me, as an eating disorder therapist, that my brother and I were super skinny kids despite eating lots of sugar every single day. No diabetes, either. I did have a record number of cavities but my dentist tells me I was born with soft vulnerable teeth and it wasn’t the candy.
My favorite lately is a small filled chocolate called Bliss. I can rarely find it anywhere but the Oostburg Piggly Wiggly. So I settle for keeping a stash of M&M’s and chocolate kisses (in various flavors) in my fridge at all times.
How was it typing on that old Royal? Brings back memories. Not such great ones. Typing class in high school. Secretarial jobs. I was such a slow typist back then. Somehow, I’ve become a whiz at the keyboard. Bet I would still have trouble with an old Royal.
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Jude,
Typing on my Royal Deluxe is a little piece of heaven. No typing teacher breathing down my neck to type faster and faster. So I just bang away, and I feel like I’m really making progress. I send typewritten letters now, too. They are full of mistakes and no one even cares. These letters are a serious novelty.
I’ve been delighted during our MWG retreats when you’ve had to run to town for an errand, and come back with bags of chocolate.
Yes, you’d like my mom. Very tender, soft-hearted, and generous. Especially when it comes to chocolate. 🙂
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Teri, it strikes me that your mom, herself, is like chocolate, tender and soft. Sweet.
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Jude,
I hope you meet her someday. She’s a milk chocolate person, but she’ll surely break a dark chocolate bar in half with you.
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Teri, what a lovely memory your mother has of her father. I like that they fed hungry people who came to their door. I remember my grandmother kept store-bought sugar cookies and those orange circus peanuts in a glass, covered dish for us kids. Store-bought cookies never tasted as good as they did at her house.
How does the green typewriter feel when you type? Does Hemingway come through to inspire you?
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Bob,
So far, Hemingway is holding out on me. Not sending any masterpieces through the green machine. There is something about the clacking noise that is pleasant (vs. high school typing class where it made me pressured). It feels old-school and wonderful. A writer of another time.
I haven’t had those orange circus peanuts in years, but I know exactly what you mean. Did you have free access to them? Probably, since it was grandma.
Thanks for reading my post.
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Grandma Hecker (my dad’s mother) gave us free access to anything including the sugar cookies AND the circus peanuts. I wonder if you can still buy circus peanuts. I’ll have to investigate the next time I’m at the grocery store.
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Grandma Hecker is my kind of gal. Good for her to let you help yourself.
Let me know how the hunt for orange peanuts turns out. At least we know for sure you can find sugar cookies if you’re feeling sentimental.
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What timing! I just ran into a bag of those orange peanuts at the grocery store the other day and almost grabbed them. Now I can’t remember where it was. We were stocking up for the weekend. I think it was either Lund’s or Trader Joe’s. Next time, I just have to buy them. When I saw the bag, I was dying to taste that flavor in my mouth again. I’m sure it’s not the same as when we were kids. But…no matter!
Teri, glad you got the typewriter. I’ve got a couple in my studio but only one is up to snuff. It’s got one sticky key though. It doesn’t bother me much. I like the sound of the clacking though it’s louder than I remember. I think back when we all used typewriters, we must have gotten used to the sound. The way people get used to staring at a screen all day or the tap, tap, tap of the laptop. Thanks for writing with me.
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Oh, Teri, do you know any of the history of that typewriter? I was just curious if they told you where it came from when you bought it.
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[…] Comments « PRACTICE — CHOCOLATE – 15min […]
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Quoin,
Maybe you’ll need to send Bob some orange peanuts if he can’t find them in Kansas City.
Can you imagine (now) if we all had to step back into a typing class? I took typing in 10th grade. Half of the machines were manual, half were electric. We’d be one week on one kind, the next week on the other. Lots of speed tests and competition. I liked it then; it doesn’t sound so fun now.
The Quiet Royal Deluxe was refurbished at a shop in Amherst. If the shop owner knew the history, he didn’t say. The second I laid eyes on it, I knew I’d take it back to Minnesota with me. He had me practice on it, and said he could tell by watching if someone was a natural or not. He said most of his customers are writers, and that he likes them. He said writers don’t act like they know everything (like people in other professions).
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Teri, I think if we had to step back into typing class, the keys clacking would create a huge din that I would not have heard in ages! I’m trying to remember what grade I was in when I took typing class. I think it was junior high. I remember the room and where I sat. Can’t picture how old I was. There were certain keys that I always seemed to hit too lightly, or mistype the wrong letter. I probably would still make those same mistakes, even after all these years. I don’t remember any electric typewriters when we were learning. I do remember the speed tests. No, not that fun. Do they do those on computers now?
I like that tidbit of history. That most of his customers are writers. And that he recognizes certain traits in writers. I’m kind of surprised by his comment that they don’t act like they know everything. I wonder if it’s the natural curiosity that I seem to see in writers. That hunger for knowledge.
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The man who sold me the typewriter rubs shoulders with a lot of people in his academic town. He said most of them are very intellectual, quite educated, but not wise. He said this after talking to him for some time. He didn’t blurt it out because he had a chip on his shoulder.
He said writers (as a whole) have figured out they don’t have all the answers. I think that’s true. Remember Natalie telling us that we have to get really dumb to write? I completely get that now. I didn’t initially.
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I think red Ravine should do a writing topic on When I learned to type…. 🙂 Teri,my mom was and still is a candy bar fan, less so now, but she used to love Big Hunks. I loved Mr Goodbars and Hershey’s with Almonds. I would keep a stash ala Jude but can’t–I eat it all instead of saving. Wonder what that says about me besides lack of control.
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Roma,
When I was growing up, Mom used to tell these outrageous stories about learning to take shorthand in her stenography class. When she told them, it seemed like they were stories from the olden days. Horse and buggy stuff.
Now if I told someone about the clatter of a typing class, they’d think the same thing. Funny, right?
I’ve never had a Big Hunk. What’s in them?
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I think Big Hunks are made of taffy and almonds, if I’m remembering correctly. They were white with sliced almonds in them. Not one of my favorites, but Mom loved them. Here’s a shot: http://www.goodenoughmother.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/Annabelles-Big-Hunk.jpg
Yes, I remember my mom showing me shorthand–OMG, that looked so hard. My aunt used to teach it. I figure, if our mothers could learn shorthand, we should be able to learn the Chinese alphabet (written), right??
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ybonesy,
I love how the candy bar wrapper describes itself as “terrific nougat.” A second cousin to Bit-O-Honey, eh?
That’s fabulous that your aunt taught shorthand. I’d love to watch someone take it while listening to a speaker. Remember all those old sit-coms where the secretary would be called into her boss’s office with her stenographer’s notebook? And yes, always a “she” secretary and a “he” boss.
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[…] by WRITING TOPIC — CHOCOLATE, the latest Writing Topic on red Ravine, Mike joined Bob, Teri, and QM in a Writing Practice on the […]
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