Analog House Calls

| 11 Nov 2014 | 02:16

    One man still makes housecalls to repair typewriters By Dylan Emerick-Brown With the advent of the mighty microchip, people have become pixilated. We can now communicate with more people than ever before, but the side effect is that while we gain human interaction, we lose human contact. Yet in one of the fastest, busiest, most technologically advanced cities in the world, there exists Paul Schweitzer, of Gramercy Office Equipment, 175 Fifth Ave., a typewriter repairman who makes house calls. Who still uses typewriters these days? It seems strange to clutter your life with a bulky's if not inelegant's instrument when smart phones allow users to perform such tasks as writing, emailing, web browsing, game playing, taking pictures and more, all via a machine that fits snugly into your pocket. â??The older people who were brought up with typewriters, they"re used to having a typewriter around and they like to still have theirs repaired or serviced, said Schweitzer. â??A lot of machines have been neglected. They have to be cleanedâ?¦give them chemical baths, wash them out, readjust the type, the lettering; we like to change the rubber rollers. One of those older customers is Upper East Sider Gay Talese, a pioneer of New Journalism. â??I have his business card Scotch-taped to my IBM typewriter. Whenever I need help, I call him up and, within an hour or two, he arrives with the courtesy and capability of a country doctor, said Talese. â??Recently, Mr. Schweitzer completely restored an old Olivetti Lettera 22 portable that I"ve had (and used) for more than a half-century, going back to the 1960s, when I typed a 600-page manuscript on it while writing The Kingdom and the Power. Talese, now nearly 80, is only typical of some of Schweitzer"s clientele. â??There are younger people who seem to be rediscovering manual, portable typewriters, Schweitzer said. â??They like to hear the clickity-clack of the keys hitting the paper against the roller. It gives them a feeling of accomplishment against just putting it into a screen on a computer. One of those younger fans is 25-year-old Scott Steinhardt, who lives in Brooklyn with his 50-year-old IBM Selectric. â??I found it in my grandfather"s basement, Steinhardt said. â??I use a typewriter when I"m fed up with distractions from my computer or I don"t feel like writing by hand. It"s distraction-free and I have to live with every letter, word and sentence before I can move on to the next. What I sacrifice in convenience's spell check, backspace, etc.'s I make up with simplicity and no distractions There"s no instant messages or emails coming in. I don"t have an urge to read the news online. I can"t do anything but type. From New York City and every corner of the country and overseas, writers send Schweitzer their typewriters for a quick repair or clean. Now and then, a person he recognizes walks through the door, damaged typewriter in hand. But it"s those house deliveries, getting out of the office and walking the city he loves, that keeps the work alive. â??Almost every machine I go out to, reflected Schweitzer, â??there"s always a little bit of a story. Or it"s memorable because of the type of people who are using these machines nowadays. They always say, â??Oh, I love my typewriter" and â??I must have it" and â??Do the best you can with it." They might not have names for them, but they"re very attached. For the writer who desires compromise, there are even USB typewriters out there that function as normal typewriters but can connect to your computer or iPad. As you type a hard copy (which is optional), your words simultaneously appear on the screen in a rare combination of sentimentality and practicality.