One Good Thing

About writing a blog is that just about nobody these days see it. It’s a little bit more private, and if the computer would stop auto-correcting the wrong words, and if the keys would click like the old-style typewriter keys… then you’d really be in heaven.

I would like to know, why the travel distance (how far down you needed to press the key) before it registers was so lengthy in length ? And is so shallow today

Can’t someone invent a typewriter keyboard for the computer? Okay. I know what you’re going to say: Tesla, or someone has already invented one. They have a lot of travel, tho it can be adjusted; but they still allow you to miss the key altogether and have your finger (usually the third finger according to studies); caught between two keys.

Well what was so great about typewriters anyway? If you made an error you brought out a little bottle of white-out and you’d put a piece of the coagulated once-upon-a-time liquid, wait for the dried thing to completely dry, and then type your correction letter or letters as the case demanded.

And to get back to the opening sentence it is freeing because you don’t need to stick (as you can see) to one subject: photography. I was always thinking in terms of what picture should I begin writing about so that eventually the picture and the writing would be tangentially related.

Now I’m free to talk about white-out if I want to.

Or something that happened today. Something at lunch.

Oh this is long enough for a post — Happy White-Out Day to you all. That would have more meaning for this generation than Happy Bastille Day.

Does one even say, Happy Bastille Day. That doesn’t sound right for such a bloody uprising. Happy Guillotine Day. That doesn’t quite work.

No we’ll stick with Happy (or Merry if so inclined) White-Out or Liquid Paper day. You don’t really want me to go to the Correct-Tape and the IBM ball Selectric?

Remember the names: Underwood, Smith-Corona,Hermes, IBM, Royal was big at one point tho I think Underwood was always the best known.

Published by Dave

My name is David Beckerman. I am a fine art photographer working in New York City. Or I was before I had two strokes. I now write from a Nursing Home.

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