For the past week, courtesy of a neighborhood friend, I’ve been writing on a 1956 Olympia SM3 typewriter. I have nine other similar machines — three Underwoods, three Royals, two Remingtons, and a Smith Corona. But none of them work as well as this Olympia, which Kevin has lovingly restored.

Olympia, a German company dating to 1903, began as “Union Schreibmaschinen-Gesellschaft m.b.H.” — but eventually changed its name. During World War II, the company made a device to help the Axis powers code messages. Their plant was damaged by American forces just before the end of the war.

I’ve been called an “old soul” — a term that I take as a compliment even though people like us are sometimes accused of not staying up with the times. I’ll admit I’m not usually impressed with novelty. Instead, I like things that last.

We have a 30-year-old Amana refrigerator in our garage. We’ve never had to have it repaired. The 13-year-old Viking fridge in our kitchen has gone through four ice makers. The hinges on our gas stove were replaced twice before the company gave us a new one. We never had a problem with our old Kenmore stove in our first house.

Amana in now owned by Whirlpool but was started in 1934 in Iowa. No wonder it’s still chugging along. Everyone I know from Iowa is smart and tough. Kenmore first sold sewing machines, then washing machines. Its long affiliation with Sears & Roebuck made it a trusted household name. I miss Sears, especially when I pass the Chapel Hills Mall and see the sprawling new apartment complex where it once stood.

Speaking of Sears, I inherited a lot of my father’s tools. He was a Craftsman loyalist. Years later, they work just great.

Julie isn’t impressed with this fact, but I still wear some clothes that I purchased in the 1990s when I worked at Lord & Taylor during college. The department store is gone, but some of their goods were so well-made they’ve outlived the brand. The same is true with their boxes. My dad was a “box man” who organized and saved various boxes in our basement. Whenever the occasion demanded one, he was ready. When he died, I inherited his box of boxes.

I admire businesses and organizations that stand the test of time. A version of the Gazette dates back to 1872, the Antlers opened in 1883, the first train of the now Broadmoor Manitou and Pikes Peak Cog Railway summited in 1891, and The Broadmoor hotel debuted in 1918. We live a mile from the Flying W. Ranch, which opened in 1953.

Julie and I spent our wedding night at the Cliff House in Manitou Springs. We figured it made sense to begin a marriage that we pray will go the distance in a place that opened in 1873.

The El Pomar Foundation, which invests “in people and places that allow good to grow,” has gifted more than $600 million since 1937. Young Life, a wonderful Christian organization that ministers to students, arrived in Colorado Springs in 1946. The Navigators, another top-shelf Christian discipleship group, dates to 1933, but moved its headquarters to the city in 1956.

Patsy Mahaney started Patsy’s Candies in 1903. Any candy that’s been around for that long has to be good. We’ve been fans of the North Pole up in Cascade. Opened in 1956, the “Home of Santa’s Workshop” is everything the modern amusement parks are not — simple, relaxing, innocent and accessible.

There are a lot of great plumbers in town, but you can’t go wrong with Olson Plumbing and Heating, which opened in 1917.

It was Emerson who said the best tunes are played on the oldest fiddles. Not just aging, but aging well is the goal, of course. If I’m honest, though, I’m drawn to things that last a long time because I subconsciously wish some things would never end — my marriage, laughing children in the home, good health, deep friendships, even our Great Dane.

But permanence is an illusion. Nothing lasts forever, at least this side of eternity. The key is to cherish what we enjoy now and take to heart C.S. Lewis’ observation: “If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.”

Paul J. Batura is a local writer and founder of the 4:8 Media Network. He can be reached via email Paul@PaulBatura.com or on X @PaulBatura.