Artifacts

I’m not sure what was up, but earlier this week a student at work dug out a typewriter, bringing back a flood of memories. Unlike the students sitting next to me on the train this morning writing their college papers on their phones, I did my undergrad with a typewriter (and loads of whiteout).

The sound as each letter strikes the carriage of a typewriter pounds our ideas across the page. The act is rooted in the physical plane. In contrast, our digital composing, including this post which is unfolding in the two thumb Blackberry mode, is much more ephemeral and tethered on the psychic side of things.

One thing is for sure. When I was in college, though I often used pay phones, I never dreamt of writing a term paper on one.

(Also, I’d be remiss not to mention all the papers my Mom typed on weekend visits home…)