In my day I’d carefully place the blank white paper into the roller.

Making sure to line up the edges and also that the bottom went in straight. Holding the paper with one hand and with the other twisting the knob.

With noises like a safe lock, I tumbled the paper forward until it comes out the front side behind the keys.

Putting the paper holder bar down on top of the blank slate to write on, then tumbling just a little bit more.

Click, click, click,


click clickity click…


Immediately after the ding, I reach for the carriage handle and with one big Schwoooooooop, I push the black rubber roller and carriage back to the starting point and click more black written letters onto the paper.

This is how most of us grew up when we needed to have a typed paper for Ms.Rumfelt or other teachers; double spaced and foot noted with smears of white out all over it.

We did this because it was ‘our day’.

In 2017, we tend to make our youth feel sort of inferior, lazy, millenialish because of their use of technology, uphill both ways, in the snow.

Actually, it’s not just our youth. We make each other feel guilty for our technological toys. You read about ‘spend time talking instead of texting’ and so forth.

In some instances, it’s probably needed. You haven’t seen someone in awhile, put your buttons up and talk.

But my wife and I talk a lot to each other. We’ve reached that age; ‘How was your day?’ ‘Good..yours?’ ‘yes it was good’. ‘you sleep ok?’ ‘yes, you”‘ yes’..

*crickets chirp*.

So, yea, we pull out our cellphones and we check our friends and relatives lives and interact with them there, right in the palms of our aging hands.


It’s fun. That’s why.

We like to see the cat videos, dogs wearing dresses and what’s the latest Chevy truck to come out. We like to see our kids lives and the lives of our other family and friends.

We’re connected

As opposed to Dick and Jane sitting at the next table without anything to laugh about and share.

Dick and Jane have been married 33 years and refuse to get a cell phone. They’re talking.

They’re talking about whether the weather will get better, who’s gonna pick up the prescriptions tomorrow, their latest poo and who could have really killed Kennedy.

Dick and Jane type on a typewriter instead of buying a computer.

Dick and Jane are disconnected and slowly molding.

A successful life requires that we progress with it.

Which brings me back to my original thoughts of how we make today’s youth feel bad for being so techy.

Not that long ago, I plugged my own Pong into the back of the TV.

Why, in my day, I got up and walked all the way to the cable rotor box and turned it myself to make sure that The 3 Stooges came in clearly.

My Bugs Bunny toothbrush, with a carrot for a brush holder, was an amazing technological advance.

I resurrected millions of dinosaurs with my Mattel Time Machine.

I used a calculator to add up all of the canned goods in mom’s kitchen when hand held calculators first came out. Of course that’s when things still had a price tag on them. Barcodes were yet to be scanned by your phones which were yet to be invented. 

And I typed in 4377 and nyuk nyuk nyukd to myself like I had broken the law.

In my day, I did play outside more and sweat and ran and played with bright yellow Tonka trucks in the dirt.

In my day, I was more creative and made cabins out of match sticks.

In my day, I got more exercise and played baseball with Keith and Neil and Jeff.


Today is not MY day anymore.

Today is THEIR day.

Although we need to be available and advise and raise our future generations, we don’t want them to be typing on an Underwood with white out.

We want better for them.

We should want their day to be their day.

But in order for that, we must step aside and give up something for them.

I want to know when to hand the keyboard over to them.

And them to enjoy their day at it’s absolute fullest for what it is for them.

To progress, to learn, to listen, but to decide.

To test and to LIVE,

not just live.

And then, to be ready to turn it over when it’s time.

I: To grow old but to not grow to be the old man that thinks the world owes me because I’m aged and I remember where I was when Elvis died.

I: To be a graceful old man with dignity, insight and respect.

I: To make days good days as best as I can.

I: To remember how the typewriter felt when I hit the last period on my last sentence on my last paper because

that was

my day.