I was asked the other day if I still used a typewriter.
Actually, I am trapped somewhere in the 20th century. I use the familiar typewriter keyboard, but now it is attached to a laptop computer. There are so many keys I don’t understand at all, but I don’t poke at them to see what happens. So far, a combination of what I learned in high school and the new miracle of writing and sending it off into thin air works for me.
I am thankful that I do not have to write in longhand and work with a quill pen. Just thinking about taking pen in hand and writing “War and Peace” or “A Tale of Two Cities” gives me writers’ cramp.
Taking a year of high school typing wasn’t my idea. Dad, who was trapped somewhere between the 19th and 20th centuries, thought everyone should learn to use a typewriter. He thought it was the path to fame and fortune. He even insisted that Ed take typing and that served Ed well in the Navy where he qualified to become a “feather merchant.”
So, my junior year of high school I sat down before an old Underwood typewriter in the “business lab.” It doesn’t take long to learn the keyboard which is really rather logical. Keys for the most-used letters are easy to reach with the strongest fingers. What did me in was the required timed tests which we had to pass with minimal errors — not just once, but a half-dozen times.
I couldn’t seem to eliminate those pesky errors so got only a half credit for my year at the Underwood. But, I was offered a deal. If I came back in the fall and passed the timed test as required, I’d get the other half credit. Dad insisted.
I spent the summer typing address stencils. They were framed in cardboard and fitted into a bracket. The object was to cut the name and address through the stencil. If, after a test run, the ink didn’t pass clearly through my work, I’d get the stencil back and do it again. I hated that job.
But, it developed my speed and my accuracy and that fall I aced the test.
Liz Ciancone is a retired Tribune-Star education reporter. Her column has been published on this page for more than 20 years. Send e-mail to Ciancone at
opinion@tribstar.com.
Liz Ciancone
LIZ CIANCONE: Coming to grips with typing technology
- Liz Ciancone
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I’m told that eveyone should have a hobby. If “hobby” means collecting something like stamps or coins, I don’t have one.
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I know this is going to sound goofy, but Mothers’ Day never passes that I don’t think of my Uncle Jim.
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I got to the sports center the other morning and found Ben, Diane and Ron in a serious discussion about cars — vintage cars.
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I’m old enough to have seen some interesting fluctuations in weather, but this year has taken the gold-plated trophy.
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I put down my fork after supper the other evening and remembered our family suppers when I was a kid.
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It’s funny how your perspective on holidays changes as you grow older. I thought of that the other morning as we are about to start the countdown to Memorial Day.
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It seems like only yesterday we’d head for the Family Sports Center at an early hour. The sky in the east was a lighter shade of gray. We could see kids waiting for the school bus a block or more ahead. By the time we got to Hulman Field, there was actually a bit of pink in the sky.
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I’ve done my share of Monday-morning quarterbacking. I guess most of us don’t take Sunday losses well. We seem to figure that if only we were coaching, our team would have won the game.
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Ho hum! Another spring, another nail-biter for Cubs fans.
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Over lunch the other day, my Best Friend and I were discussing our earliest memories. Neither of us could actually attach an age to our earliest. He informed me that while you could remember incidents, you must develop what he called “cognitive awareness” before you could associate the memory with a specific age.
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Remember when college sports were actually games? A good, friendly rivalry added spice to the Saturday afternoon festivities when I was in college.
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A brief article recently in the Chicago Tribune reminded me of a noble experiment which flopped.
The late Col. Robert McCormick, owner of the “Trib,” launched a crusade against what he said was the “unspeakable offence” of English spelling. I was still in grade school, struggling with spelling on a daily basis, so I thought it was a splendid idea. The idea never caught on and after 40 years, the colonel and the Trib threw in the towel.
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Our family birthdays are well staggered throughout the year, so we try to make them special.
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I’m not a big movie fan, but a few days ago Number Two son said he almost had to have me sedated and hauled off to a movie. He insisted that I’d enjoy it.
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Good grief. What next?
I read recently that there is a movement underfoot to cease teaching cursive writing in the public schools. I understand that this is merely a suggestion and is optional, but still …
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It’s amazing how many of us at the Family Sports Center are involved with pets. But I recently became aware of how involved some of us have become.
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I hate being in a minority, but I guess I am. I am considerably less than thrilled over having the Super Bowl altogether too close to my back yard.
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On or about Dec. 1, I picked up the mail to find three Christmas cards along with an unusual spate of catalogs. The cards reminded me that mine were still in the bottom drawer of the desk waiting to be addressed. I appreciated that.
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Mark Bennett’s delightful story of how his son acquired Barry Larkin’s autograph reminded me of how Number Two son scored the signature of Mike Ditka.
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I told my Best Friend the other day that I thought I’d write about growing up stupid. “We weren’t stupid,” said he, “we were just sheltered and naive.” He’s right. We had no idea that there were people and things in the world that would want to hurt us.
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That swooshing sound you heard may not have been the wind. It was me! I was breathing a sigh of relief that the holidays are over until the next time.
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MS. TAKES: Some look forward to spring and garage sales
We are officially into winter and just days after the longest day of the year. We can begin counting the days until spring and can look forward to waking up to a bit of sun.
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In the holiday spirit of giving, I’d like to pass along to Congress a tip I ran across in my reading. If adopted, it would enable the competing parties in Washington, D.C. to enhance federal income without raising taxes or reducing social programs.
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It’s going to be a Merry Christmas for the Albert Pujols family this year!
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LIZ CIANCONE: How much 'twinkle' do we need for holidays?
I had an especially dear friend who went into a blue funk in Christmas season. She once threatened to spell out “Bah, Humbug!” in twinkle lights on her lawn.
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LIZ CIANCONE: Work's not a 'right', it's a necessity
I understand the Indiana Legislature intends to work to produce a “right to work” bill this coming session.
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Somehow, in the vast scheme of things, I have ended up point person for holiday baking.
I know how it happened. Mom was a great cook. I’d give almost anything if I had found her recipe for raisin sugar cookies or the chocolate-orange cake. She turned out coffee cakes, sweet rolls, bread, butterfly rolls and sweet surprises. We always had dessert.
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Mom always told me to be sure I never left the house with torn or dirty underwear. She usually added a warning about being hit by a truck or a bus, or some other catastrophe befalling, so that I’d be carted off to the hospital where my tattered underwear would become a matter of public record and private shame.
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I don’t know about you, but I’ve seen enough “debates” to last the rest of my natural life.
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Is there anyplace left where there is no noise — other than the comforting noises of nature?
- More Liz Ciancone Headlines
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LIZ CIANCONE: She wasn’t hooked by the fishing hobby




