Once upon a time, I had a 1966 Chrysler 300. A durable goods item from a vanished age it was. This Chrysler, in addition to having a 383 cu inch engine (an engine, which, in and of itself is bigger than than a Toyota Prius) had something called torque-flight suspension. I won’t bore you with the technical details of this engineering marvel from Detroit. I will simply tell you that that car’s otherworldly ride derived from two twisted bars of steel. It would be like you taking a ruler and twisting the ends in opposite directions. The ruler wants to spring back to it’s normal, restful state. But in the Chrysler, this was not possible. The metal was constantly under strain.
If one can imagine that a piece of metal can feel pain, one could say that those piece of steel were in agony. And I believe this agony, carefully hidden from the passenger by flashy chrome and thick upholstery, is what created the luxurious ride. The feeling that all others in their newer, smaller cars were but peons and you were the comfortable royalty of the American road. No wonder that guy in that Honda looks pissed, he’s trapped in an angry little car.
Which leads me, not too obviously, to my new keyboard. It is a recreation of the an IBM Model M Keyboard that was first manufactured in in 1985. Which, in computer years, is back in the Jurassic period. This keyboard, manufactured by Unicomp (you’re going to want one, seriously) operates on a buckling-spring design. That is, instead of the mushy, yet sadly, universal membrane keyboard design that is ubiquitous today, inside each key there is a tiny little spring in pain. When I press the key, the spring is folded to the point where cries out, buckles in half and creates a firm and audible click.
The difference is remarkable. If you don’t spend a lot of time typing, or you are the kind of person who types with two or three fingers, then you won’t appreciate what this keyboard can do. But if you hammer out words, my friend this is the keyboard for you. It’s industrial strength. It’s Bona Fide. And when you are really humming, hammering through a surf of over 1000 words per hour, the individual, precise clicks of the keyboard blend into a roar. And the roar gains in volume and power. The faster it flows, the faster you want it to flow. Your fingers writhe and turn and toil in an orgiastic dance of letterforms that chase meaning through the ASCII and into print.
And you suspect, deep down, that if you could only type a little faster, the sound of the words flowing out of you would take on a high pitched whine — like a turbine or tuned, polished and ported German engine.
Lift your hands high like a conductor and slam them into a sentence — this keyboard doesn’t budge from the surface of your desk. Hit the period and the return key like a knock out combo, putting enough force into the return to knock a strong man to the ground – enough to kill a weak man with the power of your phrasing and this keyboard will not bat an eye. Do it all day long, hang up your bloodied gloves and the next morning this keyboard will be waiting for you as if it had Everlast sewn into it’s plastic.
To paraphrase Tom Robbins, “If this keyboard can’t do it, then fuck it, it can’t be done.”
If this typewriter can’t do it, then fuck it, it can’t be done.
This is the all-new Remington SL3, the machine that answers the question, “Which is harder, trying to read The Brothers Karamazov while listening to Stevie Wonder records or hunting for Easter eggs on a typewriter keyboard?” This is the cherry on top of the cowgirl. The burger served by the genius waitress. The Empress card.
I sense that the novel of my dreams is in the Remington SL3–although it writes much faster than I can spell. And no matter that my typing finger was pinched last week by a giant land crab. This baby speaks electric Shakespeare at the slightest provocation and will rap out a page and a half if you just look at it hard.
“What are you looking for in a typewriter?” the salesman asked.
“Something more than words, ” I replied. ”Crystals. I want to send my reader armloads of crystals, some of which are the colors of orchids and peonies, some of which pick up radio signals from a secret city that is half Paris and half Coney Island.”
I think I had one of those back then (Keyboard, not the Car). Worked marvellously for 10-finger UNIX shell hacking *sigh*
Sometimes I wish my Mac had one of these. Despite this inner urge to crank out words I am not able to write very much these days. I sometimes suspect it’s in part fault of modern keyboards. Then again, it might just be me…
Well, as J.C. Hutchins pointed out on Twitter, “Yeah, and new shoes make you run faster.” I know what he means, but the fact is this keyboard is more precise. I spend less time mashing the backspace key.
This post has filled me with relief. The keyboard I’m currently typing with is old. I’m not sure how old, but it would certainly be reasonable if I were to find out that it was older than me.
This keyboard has served faithfully for at least a decade and a half, all the way back to Prodigy, DOS, and 56K. It has given excellent service, but I have dreaded the eventual day when I will finally have to retire it.
Which is why this post fills me with relief: Now I know there is still a keyboard manufacturer that recognizes that we’d already gotten keyboard design right in the 80s. Thanks for sharing.
Did you consider das keyboard? I was thinking about getting one for that feel.
I did. It seems to be the same spring design at a higher price. I think it also looks a little cooler. But I’m a writer, not a designer. If you got the scratch, I say go for it. But what I can say for sure is — the buckling spring design is worth it. SOOOOOOO worth it.
When Mom got a word processor in the early 80s (Cost $15k and took up the entire desk), there was a “key click” option. Something in the guts of the machine would “click”, because the typists of that era were used to big manual machines and expected something audible.
My Microsoft ergonomic is from 1994 and I love it. My son doesn’t because the split keyboard forces you to use both hands and the ink has worn off the important keys.
Good job Mr. Patrick!
I actually own a das keyboard- Excellent looking thing, scares the bejesus out of anyone I invite over. Only problem is that the body and cord are actually pretty flimsy construction. I would actually recommend one of the Model M reconstructions over it- They have bodies you can drive a tank over and cords you could garrote a cow with.
Still, I’ll probably continue hammering onto my Das Keyboard until I finally shake its puny cord from its fragile body.
Cheers!
-Jeff
Hmm. Steak for dinner tonight. I LOVE this keyboard.
I have two of the Unicomp made USB keyboards, one at home and one at work. I may order two more and store them until the two that I am using wear out. A beautifully functional keyboard and the sound of the keys in action is like music to my ears.