Sunday, May 16, 2010

The Tap, Tap, Tap of a Typewriter

Many of you may not know this about me, but I hold certification for typing 110 wpm. Yup - 110 words per minute. I received my certification while at secretarial school. Yup - secretarial school. In fact, I did so well at the secretarial school that they hired me to be the secretary of their secretarial school. Yup - secretary of a secretarial school. I even hold certification for being able to take shorthand at 100 wpm. Yup - shorthand. (But I digress; I want to talk about typing)

However silly it may sound, I was very proud of my typing skill, and still am although with technology and computers and stuff, I'm pretty sure that 110 wpm is not that big of a deal anymore.

I learned to type on an electric typewriter, which was really cool because you barely had to touch the keys and the letters would engage - nothing like now, but you know what I mean. Before electric typewriters there existed these super heavy contraptions that you carried around in a case. The keys needed to be pressed quickly and with firm, staccato pressure in order to achieve clear images on the paper.

My two daughters are readers and as readers they have dreams of being writers and everyone knows that you can't write a real book unless you write it on a real typewriter. Typewriters are just way too inspiring. So, guess what we found at the church rummage sale? Yup - not one old typewriter, but two old typewriters. One is an Underwood and one is a Remington. Katie got the Underwood, because it was more old fashioned and Gracey got the Remington because it was more vintage.

The moment we got home from the rummage sale, they both opened their cases to try out their new, old contraptions. I, being tired from working the rummage sale lay down to take a nap. The Underwood (Katie's) came with two extra spools of ink and some really old typing paper. The Remington (Gracey's) didn't. Gracey grabbed some of the old typing paper from Katie's Underwood to type on. Katie didn't appreciate that. They started yelling back and forth. Grace wouldn't give the paper back and Katie wouldn't give the paper up. This went on and on until I threatened to take both typewriters back to the rummage sale. How can a person take a nap with all this arguing back and forth? Katie stormed upstairs after I said something about it only being a stupid piece of paper.

Finally, it was quiet. Katie was upstairs sulking and Gracey was sitting at the table with her Remington and Katie's Underwood paper. I closed my eyes again. Tap....tap..tap..tap......Tap..tap...tap Tap....tap..tap..tap......Tap..tap...tap Tap....tap..tap..tap......Tap..tap...tap...Tap....tap..tap..tap......Tap..tap...tap Tap....tap..tap..tap......Tap..tap...tap

Katie Rose, from upstairs, couldn't stand hearing the tapping. It was too much to keep her stance of injustice amidst the imagined fun Gracey was having with her Remington. It lured her back downstairs to her own typewriter. The next thing I knew it was taptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptap...etc. Both girls were happily typing away on their respective typewriters.

You may think that this was annoying as I tried to sleep, but it had the opposite effect. It was like a lullaby, lulling me to sleep - nothing but tapping and no arguing.


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