Monday, February 23, 2009

Teaching Me to Type

My mom taught me to type. It was an elective she taught and I chose to take when I was in junior high school. She taught me and a dozen others to type on those old typewriters that forced you to place lots of pressure on one key, a single, skinny arm would fly up out of the guts of the machine and slap a letter on to your paper. It was manual. You had to replace the ribbon that would get eaten up by the slapping, but you didn't have to turn it on or plug it in. It was an amazing little machine. We cursed how difficult it was to use.

I got up to 35 or 40 words per minute when I was in my prime. Now that I am using my phone to text, I am back down to under four.

It is funny that we would take the most technologically advanced piece of communication the world has ever seen...and TYPE on it! I really am struggling to figure it out.

Then I am sitting in this large meeting on Thursday and I receive a text. I dart my eyes back and forth to ensure I can respond discreetly.
I can.
I do.
I push send.
I feel like James Bond.

Is this why texting is so popular? We can pat ourselves on the back for multitasking? There are probably some other reasons it appeals to my base, but I still feel sneaky and dishonest by texting in a meeting. I am still very leery of what this will do to me.

Anyway, thanks Mom, your skill is still helping me today. But I am in need of a teacher for an even smaller, non-qwerty keyboard. Any 13 year old girls out there develop a curriculum yet?