But! All that just changed, ladies and gentlemen. For I just moved to a different cubicle (the computer I was using was the only one with some special hardware on it, and while I was totally spoiled with the top-notch model and feel slightly shafted using a NORMAL computer now, someone else moved into that cubicle so he could work with the fancy whatever-it-was software). My new cubicle is where they used to store the sever, and there are some other random things in here that I hope they move. Right next to the computer, there's an electric typewriter. People still use it occasionally. Well, I was sitting here getting used to the new computer which isn't as awesome as the one I had before but still perfectly functional (though I'm definitely going to ask about installing a version of Office that isn't 10 years old), and my coworker Denise came in and asked me to type a label for her on the electric typewriter. She handed me some information and started to walk away.
At that moment, panic struck. An electric typewriter? Now, I may know my way around computer applications, but this was something else. I had never used one before, and I felt a little embarrassed. "Umm..." I said, "Maybe I'm really young, but... I've never used one of these before." This confession got everyone's attention. So my coworkers said I made them feel old (insert jokes about Geritol here), and they couldn't believe I had never used a typewriter. My earliest technological memories involve hooking up the computer to the TV and the old cassette player my dad used for data storage. I remember when I was really young (4 maybe?), we bought popcorn from a boy scout and played the two computer games we had (Moon Rover and another one, in pixellated goodness). But alas, no typewriters in my past. Even though I'm in the writing/editing field, and the montage of my life should include at least one scene where I'm hunched over an old-school typewriter at 3 am, accompanied by a bottle of hard liquor and at least one cat. I guess the montage will have to settle for the scene where the laptop screen illuminates my face at 3 am, and I'm sitting on my bed accompanied by a bottle of iced tea. At least the cat is still there, likely competing with the computer for lap space.
So there. I am no longer a fogey-in-training. I am a total noob, so young that even my coworkers don't use the word "noob." Heck, most of their kids are only a few years younger than me. I'm definitely the baby around here. I shall not feel old again, at least not until I trek to Lowe's this afternoon to have duplicate house keys made and buy grownup stuff. Weee.