Eye of the Storm
Master of obsolete skills
Robbis Storm

When was the last time you made a carbon copy?

Here's why I ask. For the last few days, Miriam and I have been sorting out some things we had in storage. In one of the boxes we found a package of carbon paper -- an item I hadn't seen or thought about in a long time.

We've been sorting through a lot of our belongings lately.

One of the things I noticed was an old leather razor strop that belonged to my dad -- one he taught me to use to put the final edge on my fishing knife.

Then the other night Miriam and I were watching a movie set in Victorian England. In one of the scenes, the room was illuminated by a kerosene lamp. Everything looked authentic except for one small miscue -- that lamp was smoking like a cedar chopper's chimney.

You know what I wanted to do? I could hardly stand it. I wanted to climb into the screen, take the globe off that lamp, and carefully trim the excess material off the wick so it would burn clean. It was hard to figure out why anyone would let a lamp smoke like that.

And all of a sudden it came to me -- there are not many of us left who know how to properly trim a wick. Or strop a razor. Or use carbon paper.

If you're my age, there's just a whole slew of skills you have that in today's high-tech world aren't worth a bucket of warm spit.

I'd be willing to bet you could change a Hi Fineedle. You could probably do it blindfolded if you could find a Hi Fi. Or a needle to fit it.

How about dialing a rotary phone? Shoot -- anyone can dial a phone. All you have to do is look at the numbers. But back in our day, we not only had numbers, we had letters as well.

I still remember a few. Our home phone in Lampasas was Chapel 2 5163 and you had to dial the CH just like the rest of the numbers and you could probably do it in the dark. And what about fountain pens? Back in the '50s, most students wrote their assignments with real fountain pens -- the kind you have to fill with ink. The trick was to fill the pen's bladder without squirting all over your desk top or your neighbor's jacket -- not always an easy task when you're an uncoordinated adolescent. By the way -- not only did we have to buy ink, we had to choose the right tint. The school supply section of some stores stocked enough ink colors to please the pickiest peacock. Some of the bright turquoise inks would almost burn your eyes.

Why didn't we simply use ballpoint pens? Ballpoints usually leaked. Many young scholars came to grief when their pen dribbled ink all over their best shirt. The only reliable way to carry one on your person was to use a plastic pocket protector which worked fine -- if you didn't mind looking like a nerd. Another surefire way to nerdhood was to carry a slide rule on your belt. If I had to solve a simple math problem, I think I still have the skill to use a slide rule.

And here are a few more obsolete skills I haven't had occasion to use in a long time. Gap a sparkplug with a matchbook cover. Bore a hole with a brace and bit. Fine tune the vertical hold on a television or climb up on the roof and rotate the antenna so you can pick up Channel 10.

The list goes on and on. And what about that carbon paper? My guess is that it's been over 40 years since I made a carbon copy of anything.

But on my first job? My first real employment away from family ranching and restaurant businesses was for a newspaper. I was a cub reporter and as such had to write most of the small stories. Dozens of obituaries, police stories, etc. every day.

You had to hand in two copies of every story, so you used carbon paper by the ream. You tried to be careful, but carbon paper can be tricky and if anyone had borrowed that old manual desktop Royal, the tips of their fingers might have turned as black as a typewriter ribbon.

And come to think of it -- when was the last time you changed a typewriter ribbon?

A former Lampasan, Robbis Storm is a world traveler and restaurateur. He can be contacted via email at RStorm453@aol.com.