Damn I'm Old

The other day I was replying to an email from a co-worker, giving my opinion on some proposals from a consultant. I went to wrap up my missive with, “There’s my 2¢.” It took me awhile to find that cent mark. I’m old enough to remember when it was just above the 2 on the typewriter key. Of course, I’m also old enough to remember typewriters. In fact, I actually learned to type, not keyboard.

Typing was a skill I learn under complete duress. I fought hard to stay out of that class in high school. Once I was in the class I only learned the bare basics. Because there were more students than working machines I spent most of my time ready books for pleasure and giving the teacher oral reports once I finished.

Fast forward more years than I care to think about, and here I am spending a good deal of my time typing away at over 70 wpm, with a decent degree of proficiency. Who would have thunk? Certainly not me!

Today I was in a meeting with said consultants, and over the corner of the conference room was a stereo with an 8-trak player. Holy cow Batman!! Where did that come from? Half the people in the room didn’t know what an 8-track tape was. I’m not kidding. I’m so freaking old!!