Torn pages in the instruction manual (fixating)

Old manuals can have torn pages. All older paperwork of course can be damaged, but especially instruction manuals will be prone to tears in the pages. Also (folded) leaflets that come with machines often have damage.

A while ago I purchased this instruction manual 'Book 1' from 1924. This is over 200 pages, so a good thing that it was bound, instead of still the standard stapled booklet.

This book of models was always used very carefully. It must have been, to have survived this long in this fine condition. Nevertheless, a lot of its pages had tears - some smaller, some larger. As example, the small tear in page 115.

As the book is intended to be used again with a Meccano set of similar vintage, these tears should be stopped from becoming larger.

To fixate these tears, a very small amount of PVA glue was used. This is excellent for glueing slightly porous materials and it will not adhere to smooth, closed surfaces. As the surface to be fixed again is minute, an equally small amount of glue must be used - otherwise the moisture from the glue will wrinkle and damage the paper. Also, because it is so small a strip of glued material the extra local stiffness does not hinder the page.

Before applying with the finger or a toothpick a diminutive strip of glue, a plastic binder is slipped under the page.

This will prevent other pages from getting any glue, and the PVA will not adhere to it. (I later found out that wax-paper is generally used for this.) When the tear has been 'closed' again properly (with the right side on top, tears are rarely vertical through the paper), then the binder is closed to cover the glued page. Then closing the book ensures everything is straight and flat. (Add extra weight if needed...)

Letting it harden for a few minutes, the book can then be re-opened and the plastic binder can be taken away. The tear is not quite invisible, but it is fixated and will not tear further.

Just about every other few pages a tear was fixated this way - making the book fine to use again. Lots of little mechanical 3-dimensional puzzles.

Like a little monoplane.

Or a potato-spinner.

Fun stuff, and the instruction manual now again good to go for several more decades!

Should've spotted - label scratcher by design

Should've spotted this really and been ready to stop it before it did another round scratching the label. Especially on a gramophone that doesn't have an automatic brake, it then just keeps scratching scratching scratching deeper (at 78 rpm).

On the other hand, this seems the runout track by design. There is even a deliberate opening in the inner ridge to let the run-out groove run onto the label. Some records have a scratch or damage in a groove that makes the needle jump the track - to then play havoc on the label. This looked like one of those when I saw it spiral onto its label, and heard that grating sound. But this one's strange in that it seems 'by design'.

Maybe the matrix was initially made for a smaller label (though the inner ridge suggests otherwise). It feels like an older, 'teens recording, the pressing likely dates from the early 1920-ies.

Or maybe the recording engineer simply made a mistake with setting up the cutting-machine for this session.

Either way, the record gave a me 'start' in any case - even if it's not a 'needle-jump', it made me jump.
(:

Toy-store with 97 year old new item on the shelf

Unlikely the store know, nor that the brand-owners would like to know it, but it just struck me that the shop had a near-century old new item on the shelf.

The gifting season is nearly upon us with December 5th approaching rapidly, so toy-stores are well-stocked. When browsing the shelves this morning (incidentally for a birthday gift, not on behalf of the holyman), was struck by this box illustration on the shelf.

Very prominently on the front of the vehicle is a triangular plate. Now that is a very recognisable classic Meccano part; the 'flat trunnion' part 126a.

The part 126a was introduced in the September 1921 issue of the Meccano Magazine (top-right of page 3), following on the part 126 'trunnion' introduced in the May issue of the same year.

The naming is a bit odd, as it is most certainly not a trunnion. The part started out as a trunnion-support, but somebody at Meccano got confused apparently and they named the support 'trunnion'.

The 2018 issue 'buggy' does look modern and of course has plastic shaped-parts as well. Nevertheless it is still very much Meccano and still compatible with century-old parts - it even contains a near-century old part. (There's also a strip part number 3 in there I think - that design is actually more than a century old.)

Today's Meccano is a brand owned by a Canadian company with its design-offices for Meccano in California. From what I gather, they are trying hard to be a modern technical toy including robotics and electronics and would not like to emphasise their heritage. With the amount of look-alikes and low-cost 'knock-offs' also on the shelves, I can imagine that it is not an easy task to catch the attention of children (and parents) today. And that's not even mentioning the ubiquitous Danish product with its technical bits.

Nevertheless, they still do have parts on the shelf - have done for a century. Good show, that.

Trioh

Continuing to accessorise the pre-war typewriter - a stapler. Just purchased a booklet-stapler.

This Trioh branded stapler is almost like-new. Very rigid design, all metal (save the cork base under the metal baseplate). Will staple booklets with its angled arm. Very simple spring to feed the staples.

From a brief scan of the net; these should be fairly common. This model was made by the Hamburg firm of Wolf & Sager probably from the early 30-ies. There are an astounding amount of small variations, judging by a quick image-search on the net. Different staple-feed spring designs, a multitude of baseplate variants - but all follow the same basic arrangement. Built to last.

This specimen seems the most simplified of the design, and does not have a DRM/DRGM marking, making it probably a late (post-war) manufactured model.

The stapler came with an additional cardboard box.

And indeed - should keep us in staples for decades to come.

With thousands more red-stripe staples - these have weak spot at the painted section, allowing you to cleanly 'un-staple' the paper by breaking it in half. Red-stripe staples are still being manufactured and available. These boxes are 'patents pending' (though not telling what application numbers actually are pending), suggesting they might be the same age as the stapler.

The black lacquer and chrome makes this a good match for the pre-war portables :)

Yet more plastic...

Took time for a quick de-tour on the commute to browse a large thrift store. On one shelf, spotted a black case that looked like it could contain a typewriter.

The case is made of hard plastic. Looking closer anyways to read the label - yes that's a typewriter.

Lifting up the lid to peek inside; yes it is indeed a typewriter. It is electric, plastic and all beige. A Smith-Corona C400 electric typewriter.

It's still plastic machines season here...

Typewriter spotting, typeface spotting too

Last week watched a simple film, an unremarkable and somewhat dated "Seven Keys To Baldpate". The version watched was released in 1947 and produced on a limited budget with unremarkable acting. The story I think rather shows its age, feeling more like a 1920s crime novel than a late forties 'noir' film. (As was remarked by a critic at the time...)

This 'aged' impression would not be far off - the story was written by Earl Derr Biggers and first published in 1913. That name would be recognisable to the public back then as the creator of Charlie Chan - a successful series of detective novels and several films featuring the Chinese detective created by Mr Biggers. This name might help draw in the curious to watch the film (- it did last week).

Coming back to Baldpate - the main character is a writer that is continually pulled away from his very nice Royal portable typewriter by the many goings-on. (An Aristocrat? Or an Arrow?)

The typewriter even gets featured in-action and close-up (when Kenneth actually gets the time to sit down at his machine). Quite a distinctive typeface, very unlike the more usual pica. (Royal 'Book'?)

A small 'typographical bonus' when watching this film, even though it's a bit dated with a convoluted story - it does still entertain.

Entering the plastic period

Several typewriters were spotted in a quick scout of a local thrift store. The first machine was this little Olivetti Lettera 12.

Even with an asking price of 5 Euro, this did not appeal. The machine housing does make it look sleek and styled for its period - it is however all plastic. As this is (probably) a seventies' machine, the carrying case is also all plastic. Carrying case is not quite right of course, as it is only a cover that simply snaps over the typewriter.

(The Olivetti was sitting on top of an equally seventies' (or eighties') Erika machine in a zip-case. No pictures...)

Moving right along - we saw another peek of plastic as we lifted the lid of a typewriterish-looking case.

A nicely molded housing of an Adler typewriter with quite tall plastic keytops. Perhaps because it is bigger, or because it had a proper carrying case, but this one is three times as expensive as the Olivetti.

The supply of pre-war all-metal machines seems to have dried up for now - we've arrived in a plastic era here :-)