Saturday, May 03, 2008

Down Memory Lane #4

"More reminiscences?" Giggled Muhammad, looking over my shoulder.

"As a matter of fact, yes." I replied, indignantly. " I thought I'd do a post about life before the word processor, when I first worked in a solicitors' office."

Muhammad laughed. "Do you think readers will be interested in the use of the quill pen?"

I ignored him. "The first office I worked in," I said, "had manual typewriters."

Muhammad yawned, wide pink. "Oh really?" He said, clearly bored with the subject.

I pressed on. "Yes," I said, "but they were getting electronic ones."

"With screens?"

"No, they came later. The first ones with screens could only display one line of text - so that the typist could check what they had typed, before printing it."

"Wow, high tech." Said Muhammad, sarcastically.

"Actually," I said, "that was the beginning of a revolution. Until then, all errors could only be seen when they were on the paper - correcting them meant either rubbing out the error, or covering it with correction fluid. Some documents, like wills, could not be corrected - they had to be completely re-typed."

"You mean, like when I'm having a wash, you handle me and I have to start all over again?"

"Exactly." I said, trying to mask my amusement at the comparison.

"That must have been bloody annoying." Said Muhammad with feeling, absently licking a paw.

"It was. Thankfully, those days are long gone."

Muhammad got up, stretched, and made his way towards the cat flap. "Yes, it was a long time ago." He said. "What's it like being old?"

My slipper hit the flap as it bounced shut.


  1. .... *Sigh* At least you can HAVE a conversation with Muhammed with respect to the days when technology was in the process of rearing its ugly lovely head- my cat ( well, I say she's MY cat, she'd probably take me to court as to proper possession of title), Ms Rosie Boolaye, is FAR too taken with her GORGEOUS self even to indulge me with the occaisional purr, let alone meaningful comment ( other than "Feed Me this very INSTANT, you utter, UTTER Ratbag")
    Ah me. What we cat lovers tolerate in the appreciation of feline beauty, eh?!

  2. Oh yes, you don't own your cat - she owns you. Muhammad will deign to converse with me but, as you may have noticed, he always gets the better of the exchanges.


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