Tuesday, February 23, 2010


There's a blank screen in front of me, all set to have words of wisdom snark magically keyboarded onto it. The only thing is? I gots nada. Tis a blank page in my writing machine.

I could talk about how I used a typewriter yesterday. Yes, you read correctly. I used a typewriter. Before yesterday, I couldn't even remember the last time I saw a typewriter, much less when I used one.

For all of you not near the half-century mark, let me point out that offices used to be filled with little women typing away at these machines, translating the handwritten words of men into neat, easy-to-read lines of text, properly punctuated and capitalized, beginning with dears and ending with regards(es) or sincerelys.

Gals of a certain age will remember being forced by their mothers to take typing in 7th grade so as to have a usable skill. Gals of that certain age will remember how much they hated having to take typing but appreciated not being forced at the same time to take home economics classes. Gals of a certain age will further remember that the skill proved to be a formidable and enviable one, helping to pay for cigarettes booze drugs various vices throughout college. Gals of a certain age will most importantly remember that they have tipped their heads to their mothers many times over the years as they say, "I'm so glad I know how to type."

Do you know why I had to use a typewriter? Because my highly driven, overachieving, business-owning friend was submitting a proposal to a government agency. And that government agency expected proposers to complete various forms on a typewriter. How archaic, yes? I mean, the ease with which forms can be created for completing via computer is clearly not a government secret.

And, yet, there I was type-type-typing away, and remembering the days of old.

Now, excuse me, I've got to get back to playing Pong. Once I take my Metamucil, of course.


mayberry said...

Speaking of Pong, the way I learned to type was on a primitive video game--a version of Space Invaders where you had to type the correct letters in order to shoot down the enemies.

I am now a SUPER FAST typist. Also, unrelated (except for archaicness): for my 1st job I had to take a filing test. To, you know, prove that I knew how to alphabetize.

Coal Miner's Granddaughter said...

Typewriters are the shizz! I totally enjoyed my keyboarding class in high school on my bad-ass electric IBM typewriter. Ah, memories

Beck said...

We actually have a typewriter and it's pretty old. My kids largely think of it as a percussive instrument. I should haul it out again tomorrow... although it weighs a TON.

Michele R said...

I think one day they will be a retro piece of art in homes. I was in a room of IBMs in the 7th grade.
I do bitch that they are not teaching kids keyboarding anymore. My 6th grader is having to write stories or whatever on the laptop that they occasionally bring into class and he pecks away. Had to come in early to get it finished one day.

Janet said...

Yep, I was one of those gals. Learned to type on a MANUAL typewriter, thank you. Worked as a secretary for several years, but mostly had an IBM electric for that. As wordy as I am, I doubt I would be a blogger if I didn't know how to type! I actually wanted to learn - I made money in college typing papers for fellow students. Sometimes I got paid in Jack Daniels. Ah, memories.


I mentioned to Eldest the other night that I had a fairly wide open day Friday. Writer that he is, he wondered if I would perhaps like a wri...