Thirty Hertz RumblePittsburgh-based freelance writer, movie watcher and vinyl crate digger. I've interviewed Tom Hanks and James Bond and it was all downhill from there.
As I browsed through a few hundred songs in a file of rare 80’s tracks I downloaded this week (courtesy of a guy on Pirate Bay that posts thousands of rare 80’s cuts) I came across the song “This is the Shirt.” Now, the name of the song itself begs a listen. This Is the Shirt.
“This is the shirt that she wore when it was good, good, good.”
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The bugger is that I’m out of coffee. Losing apostrophes and adding spaces. My first attempt at a sentence haunts me on the back side of this paper. This physical dead tree in my typewriter. The sentence draws nearer every time I slide the platter back to its starting point on the far left side. “Jay Patrick is trying to type on a typewriter.”
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As my first experiment in typing on a typewriter I just wanted to get used to the keyboard and do a little bit of key pounding. I must admit this feels much like heavy lifting compared to typing on a computer. My hand has already begun to cramp from using long lost muscles that I perhaps never had. Another thing is remembering to hit a capital letter at the beginning of each sentence. Thanks auto-type. I couldn’t even remember to capitalize the first letter in a sentence about capitalizing the first letter. Also did everyone type with three fingers or was every pinky and ring finger so beefy that fatigue and/or strength never factored in typing a single letter? I’m picturing legions of secretaries and housewives with Hulk Hogan forearms because as we know from Mad Men no male ever typed a damn thing in his life.