October 26th, 2020

Take a look at my keyboard.  Take a closer look.  You may notice, upon second glance anyway, that a letter or two may not look exactly right.  Or missing entirely.  And perhaps it isn't just a letter or two, it might be most of them.  Ooops.

I would say that this keyboard has been well used.  And it's not that old either.  Just beaten upon.  I don't wear my nails really long, but they aren't bitten to the quick either.  What on earth would cause all of this damage?

I blame piano lessons.

I was taught, primarily, old school.  Sit up straight (To this day I have good posture), hands so flat I can balance a penny on them while playing, and striking the keys with the tips of my fingers rather than the pad.  That's how I learned.  And it was easy to translate that to a typewriter.

Yes it's true. I'm so old that I learned how to type on an old manual Underwood Typewriter.  An adorable little Texas lady who wore Jackie O suits (I remember a pink one in particular), patent leather heels, her jet black hair in a perfect flip (remember the flip hairstyle?).  She would not have looked out of place wearing a pillbox hat.  She had a very soft, sweet voice and to get our attention would wave her hands in the air saying repeatedly, "Quiet'n down ya'll, quiet'n down"  Quiet'n would be pronounced, "quah tin".  

Hers was the very first class I took when we moved to Texas and I had no idea what she was saying.  "Quah tin?"  What the heck is "Quah tin"?   I grew to really like this teacher (whose name escapes me),  I learned how to type very quickly and easily (again, probably thanks to all those years of piano lessons) and finished the course work within a month.  So during class, instead of re-doing what everyone else was doing, I began typing up my school work for other classes instead.  My teacher was fully aware of what I was doing and allowed it with not a word.  Like I said, I really liked her.

Another thing that translated from piano keyboard to typewriter (and eventually computer keyboard) was memorizing the keyboard.  It was actually a lot easier than a piano keyboard.  The piano has 88 keys but there are only 26 letters in the alphabet.  And even if you add in the numerals and punctuation keys it's still less to concern yourself with.

The goal back then was something that was called "Touch Typing".  The intention was that a person could type accurately and quickly without looking at the keys at all.  It's the same thing with piano.  The player is supposed to preform without having to look at the keys.  Which is the way that I learned.  So having no letters on my keyboard is not an issue for me.

However, it is kind of a problem for anyone else who may need to use my computer who didn't have the advantage that I did of learning how to type without looking at the keyboard.  Who else might possibly be using my computer? Well anyone in the house really.  My computer sits right there in the combination kitchen, dining, living area and any guest or visitor that needs to look something else is offered my computer.  Heck, even Tim has used it from time to time. It's convenient!  Well, other than the no letters thing. Which, apparently, a lot of people find to be singularly inconvenient.

So when Tim recently ordered a new keyboard for himself for work, I asked if I could have the old one.   "Well of course" he said but he wondered why I wanted it.  I explained my thoughts and he nodded and said that he could order replacement letters if I wanted.  Wow!  That's cool.  Great Idea!  

So in the end, he didn't like the new keyboard and went back to using his old one, I got to have the new one (woohoo!) and the extra letters are safely waiting until I manage to obliterate the letters on this new keyboard.  Yahoo!    A new keyboard AND a backup plan for the future. I love it!

Here's the new keyboard.  Please note that all letters are present and accounted for.  Coolio.

The excitement never ends at our house :)