More on Vienna. I had found a thrift mall on Google Maps, so having some time to myself I strolled across town and discovered a Carla thrift store. Note that in Austria they often use English for adverts, as the sign announced “second hand, second chance”. Inside I saw a typewriter brand I’d never seen, JAPY.
Japy P68, a French made version of the Oliver/Patria/Swissa line. I bought it for 30 EU. It was in remarkable condition for being made in 1956, complete in the wooden case, and I was able to carry it onto the plane as hand luggage for the return trip.
Although French made, it has German characters, which is all good but for the Z-Y exchange that slows me down a little. Back at the hotel I sat down and typed a short tale inspired by the current goings on. I was tagging alone with my son, a psychiatrist, who was attending a big conference. He had toured Sigmund Freud’s house the previous day, and was regaling me with other psychiatry trivia, one in particular that involved a well known figure reputed to have always left his room door open in the hope that one day he would encounter a beautiful stranger, or something like that! Well, he might have, but I don’t know if he did….
I found this old Waltham pocket watch last week, at a thrift shop of course, and for the price they wanted I had to buy it. It’s a model 1883, Grade 1, 7 jewels, made in 1892. My grandfather left me his old Waltham pocket watch, which still works well almost 45 years after I got it, and it was an antique then. That one is not as old as this one, however.
Knowing how well made these are, I gave it a few winds and it started to tick, so I figured that there was an even chance it would keep running. It ran for a few days on one winding, but there was one problem – I couldn’t pull out the stem to set the hands like I could with my Grandfather’s Waltham. I tried and tried to no avail. I even undid the tiny screw that held the stem in the movement and extracted the stem. No luck. I watched videos about overhauling these things, but nobody showed me how to set the time. Despite having overhauled a few wrist watches, I didn’t feel like ruining this one, so I just kept it around and carried in my pocket. I went into an antique coin dealer’s shop yesterday and a grumpy old coot looked at me like I was some sort of robber.
Hi, I said, I guess you must have seen a lot of pocket watches.
Yes, he said, do you have one?
I had it in my pocket but I was loath to show it to him, sensing that he wasn’t going to give me a fair deal, or even help me out. He was hoping I was one of those suckers who would sell him a valuable item cheap! At least, that was my gut feeling.
Who fixes these things? I asked.
Nobody, he replied. They’re not usually worth fixing.
I left and part of me agreed with him, but I still thought he was a liar, because I know of several watch repair people in town, and he didn’t mention any of them, which confirmed my suspicion that he didn’t want me to repair a watch, but wanted to get his hands on one so he could fix it and sell it.
I returned to the internet and once again asked the AI to identify the watch, which it did. This time however, I noticed that in the information it mentioned the fact that many of these were lever set.
Ok, I thought, lever set can’t be the same as pulling out the stem now can it?
Next, I asked how to set the time with the lever and very quickly got a response that led me to the solution. Further examination of the front rim of the bezel revealed a tiny bit of steel. Well, maybe that’s the lever? I put my fingernail into the crack behind it and pulled it out! Egad, I found the secret! I set the time and the watch is now running, and right on time too.
The setting lever is on the rim of the bezel at 5 o’clock. Grade 1, but not “Railroad” Grade. Do I care? I don’t take trains!Beautiful engraving, and this is the back side!Double back covers!
Olivetti mechanics in an Underwood body: Italian engineering, American design, made in Spain
Bought this Underwood 450 the other day. It was all stained and dirty but Brasso and Meguires plastic cleaner polished it up nicely. I naturally assumed that since it was an Olivetti inside, it had to be Italian design, but it was not. It is an American design! However, Underwood was owned by Olivetti and so the design had to be Olivetti approved, hence I call it Italian Style! Concurrently, I also found a Borsolino cap at last, as well as an Italian merino wool cardigan. I wanted a Borsolino hat for years but never found one until today. Perhaps if I sit down at the “Italian” typewriter in my Italian Borsolino and Italian Merino (sweater), I will write about how I once saw a dead dog in Venice, and how my life was forever changed.
Me and my Italian clothesBorsalino- accept no substitute!
nathanguitars 