From type slugs to steamy tubs: An unexpected journey

Photo of a desktop on which we see a portable Sangean HD Radio, a copy of DX News, a leather memo book cover for Field Notes notebooks, and a curvy-top Hermes 3000 typewriter. In the typewriter is a sheet of paper on which I typed the accompanying column. Here is what's on the paper: Ah, the joys of typewriter maintenance. Picture me, just your average Joe, undertaking the noble task of maintaining my precious Hermes 3000 in pristine glory.

Armed with cotton swabs and a spray bottle of 99.9 percent isopropyl alcohol, I was all set to dive into the fiddly, smudgy, inky world of typeslug cleanliness.

What I wasn't ready for was the time travel that occurred after the first spray.

The moment that acerbic scent of isopropyl alcohol hit my nostrils, my brain went on an impromptu trip down memory lane.

Picture this: One moment, I was elbow-deep in the guts of a vintage typewriter, and the next, I was back in the sultry, steamy setting of Denver's Empire Baths.

I'd somehow managed to astrally project myself into the midst of a memory of my first visit to the former gay bathhouse.

Why, you might ask, did my brain make this leap from cleaning typeslugs to steamy encounters?

Here's the explanation.

Poppers are recreational inhalants of isobutyl nitrite or related compounds made by reacting isobutyl alcohol with sodium nitrite in dilute sulfuric acid.

These aren't exactly household chemicals, but their distinctive scent is oddly reminiscent of alcohol.

At the Empire Baths — or any other gay bathhouse — the aroma of poppers infused the humid air, subtly overlaying the scent of damp towels and sweat. Quite the unique olfactory cocktail.

It's not a far stretch to say that my nostrils picked up the thread of familiarity between the isopropyl alcohol and those ethereal nitrite wafts from the past.

And voila!

My brain leaped from typeslugs to steam rooms faster than a pussy pouncing on a laser pointer.

But I must cut this blog post short before we digress further into memory and nostalgia.

There’s an irresistible siren call from my living room I cannot ignore: a new Chris Pratt movie on Amazon Prime.

Ah, the joys of typewriter maintenance. Picture me, just your average Joe, undertaking the noble task of maintaining my precious Hermes 3000 in pristine glory.

Armed with cotton swabs and a spray bottle of 99 percent isopropyl alcohol, I was all set to dive into the fiddly, smudgy, inky world of typeslug cleanliness.

What I wasn’t ready for was the time travel that occurred after the first spray.

The moment that acerbic scent of isopropyl alcohol hit my nostrils, my brain went on an impromptu trip down memory lane.

Picture this: One moment, I was elbow-deep in the guts of a vintage typewriter, and the next, I was back in the sultry, steamy setting of Denver’s Empire Baths.

I’d somehow managed to astrally project myself into the midst of a memory of my first visit to the former gay bathhouse.

Why, you might ask, did my brain make this leap from cleaning typeslugs to steamy encounters?

Here’s the explanation.

Poppers are recreational inhalants of isobutyl nitrite or related compounds made by reacting isobutyl alcohol with sodium nitrite in dilute sulfuric acid.

These aren’t exactly household chemicals, but their distinctive scent is oddly reminiscent of alcohol.

At the Empire Baths — or any other gay bathhouse — the aroma of poppers infused the humid air, subtly overlaying the scent of damp towels and sweat. Quite the unique olfactory cocktail.

It’s not a far stretch to say that my nostrils picked up the thread of familiarity between the isopropyl alcohol and those ethereal nitrite wafts from the past.

And voila!

My brain leaped from typeslugs to steam rooms faster than a pussy pouncing on a laser pointer.

But I must cut this blog post short before we digress further into memory and nostalgia.

There’s an irresistible siren call from my living room I cannot ignore: a new Chris Pratt movie on Amazon Prime.

Bits of tid that make life interesting

Photo of letter from 3M to a woman who worked at New Jersey Bell. Beneath it is the 3M facility that sent the letter. Below that is a photo of what once was New Jersey Bell's office's, where the recipient worked.
TOP: Photo of envelope from 3M to a woman who worked at New Jersey Bell. MIDDLE: The 3M facility in St. Paul, Minnesota, that sent the letter. BOTTOM: A building in Jersey City, New Jersey, that once housed New Jersey Bell’s offices, where the recipient worked.

Here's the letter from 3M that included a sample of a special paper used to clean typewriter type slugs.
Here’s the letter from 3M that included a sample of a special paper used to clean typewriter type slugs.

Here's the cleaning paper ready to be used in the Hermes 3000. The little piece of paper at right also was in the typewriter case; it has information about the kind of typewriter ribbon the owners needs to buy.
The cleaning paper stands ready to be used in the Hermes 3000. The little piece of paper at right also was in the typewriter case; it has information about the kind of typewriter ribbon the owner needs to buy.

At left is the back side of that little piece of paper. It has an add for Green Cross Pharmacy in Morristown, New Jersey. The pharmacy used to occupy the building with the "Boutique 161" sign.
At left is the backside of that little piece of paper. It’s an ad for Green Cross Pharmacy in Morristown, New Jersey. The pharmacy used to occupy the building with the “Boutique 161” sign.

Before purchasing the Hermes 3000 for Allied, its owner might have considered getting a machine from Smith's Office Machines & Equipment Inc. A coin-operated laundry now stands on the site.
Before purchasing the Hermes 3000 at Allied, its owner might have considered getting a machine from Smith’s Office Machines & Equipment Inc. in East Orange, New Jersey. A coin-operated laundry now stands on the site.

Meet Director Pica, the Sam Kinison of typefaces!

Photo of typeslugs on a Hermes 3000 typewritere. Typeslugs are the elements on the end of the typebars; they strike the ribbon and transfer ink to paper.
Closeup of the Director Pica typeslugs on my Hermes 3000 curvytop.

Thanks to the Rt. Rev. Munk, you can view the NOMDA samples for Hermes and Smith-Corona.

NOMDA_Hermes
In the photo above, I printed a Hermes NOMDA page and then typed with my Hermes 3000 to determine it’s afflicted with Director Pica.

And if you don’t remember Sam Kinison . . .