Doing My Part To Fill-Up the Black Hole
Posted: Tuesday, May 17, 2011
by John Brazell
I was deep in thought –- well, sort of -- fingers resting lightly on my keyboard when an audible click sent the screen tumbling into the Digital Black Hole. Nothing. Nada. Kaput. This wasn't the first time. As I sat silently swearing at the loss of yet another half page of my mind, I thought what any card-carrying member of the “spit and whittle” club would think, “They don't make 'em like they used to.”
My introduction to typewriters came about mostly by accident. Back in high school, a millennium ago, I wasn't too interested in banging on a typewriter four or five hours a week until I noticed the striking imbalance of girls to boys in the typing class. Most everyone in a butch haircut and letter jacket signed up for shop class. Those in hoop skirts and bobby socks enrolled in typing class. I followed my primal instincts and went with the hoops. When your brain is nine parts testosterone, you do things for dumb reasons and sometimes get lucky.
I did reasonably well in class considering all the distractions and for a while dreamed of becoming a journalist, maybe the next Ernie Pyle or Hugh Hefner. I assumed that if you typed well you had a chance. Instead, I did the second best thing and became a reporter for the school newspaper and yearbook. Over time my journalism ambition faded, along with my typing skills. My appreciation for the fairer, softer, gentler sex never did.
I rarely touched a keyboard again until twelve-fourteen years ago and then only sparingly. My corporate technology budget suddenly exceeded the national debt and scared the "begeebers" out of those who thought "digital" referred only to a prostate exam. To calm the faint of heart and promote a more "Gatesian" image, I learned a few techie buzzwords and ordered a PC. In the quiet of the morning, I flipped the "on" switch and typed "Now is the time for all good men ..." Who'd have thought after all these years, I’d still be pecking on a keyboard, trying to figure out how to hit a “q” without looking?
The thing most of us know best about a personal computer is the keyboard. Maybe it’s the only thing. You find the letter or number you want and punch it. What’s easier than that? If you learned to type you got a head start. I don't know what happened to all my jock buddies in high school who chose shop class. Maybe there was a demand for band saw and lathe operators back then. I hope so.
Truth is that I can live with throwaway keyboards and even computers. An entire computer workstation costs less than one of those indestructible typewriters, and it does much more. My frustration relates to the Digital Black Hole -- where the heck is it and when is it going to fill up?
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Rest of the story: My lovely SB and I almost didn't make it as she was a typing wizard -- I wasn’t -- and we had nothing to talk about. It was later that I learned we were different "types." I preferred "Pica" and she preferred "Elite."
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Top-level comments on this article: (2 total)I remember typing class too and it was all girls except for one guy who had probably figured things out as you did. I can relate to your story. I definitely have a love/hate relationship with my computer. :)Hi Brianna, some things work out for the good no matter how badly we try to screw them up. I've got my desktop so loaded with "stuff" it's amazing it doesn't jump off the desk and strangle me. Indeed, maybe it's trying to tell me something. Same big smiley back to you.
Hi John.
Great story. And as usual I really enjoyed your wit and humor.
Hugs,
DianneThank you Dianne, it's always good to hear from you. A smiley is still the best elixir and I wish you many. Hope things are wonderful in Arizona. It's getting too hot too soon in Austin. Take care of those beautiful horses. Best to you.
JohnOur weather has been pretty mild ... nice really. But it will get hot enough soon enough.
The horses are happy and have not shown any signs of having caught that deadly EHV-1 that got started at the cutting horse show in Ogden, Utah. Thank Goodness! Two of the horses went to a show the Sunday before the news came out and we were all holding our breaths. Thank you, John, for thinking of them.
Hugs,
Dianne
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