Reinventions

One of my cousins said that my main talent was reinventing myself. I felt highly complimented but had to agree.  I do that very well.  My entire career was led by a need for change, a need for more growth.

 It was my littlest grandson’s birthday.  I was there when he was opening gifts.  His mother had gotten him an electric typewriter.  Why?  I asked.  He wanted one, my daughter said.  He wanted the old typewriter, the one that was not electric, but I didn’t know where to get it. 

 One day I found it the bookstore nearby.  It cost a lot more than it did when I was small.   I remembered an old Smith Corona.  It went clak clak clak as you typed, then a little bell would ring, meaning you should hit the little handle, push and go to the next line.  If you made a mistake you either erased it but that was tough and dirty or you corrected it by hand (sloppy) or you changed your paper and re-typed the whole assignment.

 That was replaced by an Olivetti, which could type in black and red.  You used the red to highlight.  Then I bought a small portable that could erase errors and later an IBM Selectric, the one with the font balls.  You could change your font by changing the balls.  That typewriter I absolutely loved.  And you could correct by inserting the erasing tape. 

 I was a genius at typing because my life required it.

 In the ‘80s we went to the States and there I purchased a Canon electronic typewriter, which had a little screen where what you typed would come out and you could edit your sentence before you pressed a button and printed it.  Then the computer and word processing was invented and if you were a Filipina vice president who went to the US where everyone looks for American experience, you figure – I will work as a secretary here so I might as well enroll in word processing.

 I found a class that promised references to a secretarial job after you learned word processing on the computer.  The system used at first was the Wang.  I typed so quickly in class that once I looked up and saw the whole class staring at me with hatred in their eyes, like I was typing a thousand words a minute.

 But I loved the word processing, being able to edit, to cut and paste on the computer.  It beat going to my boss’ office with the full text of something I had written for him, tape and scissors.  That’s how we would edit his speeches.  Then I would go and  give the whole thing to his secretary to type.  Then the process would start again.  It was tiresome.  You don’t have to do that anymore with computers.

Why then is my grandson wanting an old electric typewriter?  To be fair it looks good and it self-erases.  My daughter, overcome with waves of nostalgia, couldn’t wait to use it herself.  It reminded her of her childhood.  But it was better, more sleek, more sophisticated.  More expensive, I said, and unnecessary if you have a computer.  You can’t edit on that thing.  But we love it, my daughter said and I could see in my grandson’s eyes, full of light, that he loved it too.

 There you go.  Typewriters have reinvented themselves.  Even the old manual ones.  I remember at two of the offices I worked at after I returned from the US, they had old manual typewriters with missing parts – those things that cover the keys --  being used.  I asked, Why don’t you donate them to the police station?  That’s the only place that uses those old typewriters.  They need them there. 

 Now typewriters have been reinvented, redesigned and re-priced.  I just shake my head.

 Are they the only things that have returned?  No, also turntables and records.  My daughter, who is in her 40s, tells me about a lovely evening spent at a friend’s house playing 33s on her turntable and listening to Bong Penera once again.  Suddenly I remember all the turntables I had given or thrown away, all my records that I also had left behind or thrown away and I lament.  Remember?  Remember our repertory of music then?  I want to weep.  The records then were only P20 each and now I think they’re over a thousand each.

 I say these items are reinvented because they’re not just recycled.  They have new meanings to the people who love them now.  They revive parts of their lives that have been hiding inside them for a while.  How great the old sound was, they say, when I thought the CD or digital was a much clearer sound or so they told us then.  No, these are not recycled.  They are revived with new meaning.  They are reinvented.  Like me.  They are old andwoven with nostalgia they seem to be still usable again.

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