During an archaeological dig in my office today, I unearthed some relics from prehistoric times.
Remember when floppies were floppy? (Remember floppies?) And eight inches in diameter?
Newspaper offices used to smell of hot wax. Those days are long gone, and I’m not the least bit nostalgic for them.
This was our second waxer. The first one caught on fire one day, which is one more reason why I’m happy that we are past the era of cold type and hot wax.
I almost want that waxer. I have a thing for old pressroom gadgets. (I was devastated when I found out that my brother dumped a Mayline drafting board some years ago.) What I wouldn’t give for the expandable zigzag metal doohicky (we called it a “fence”) that we used in the 1980s to make measurements and calculations for enlarging/reducing photos. (It was ancient even then.) Or the slightly more modern orange plastic cropping frames that had a diagonal metal bar that slid between two posts with screws to tighten. I treasure my 1970s pica poles, and I have a few copy pencils left from the same era that are good for all sorts of things, including marking fabric.