the touchscreen terror

So I have been struggling with the touchpad for a long time.

Whatever the iVention or increasingly, every other bandwagon-hopping technofirm's market-share-grabber, I just cannot abide touch screens.

Having been relatively tech savvy in my day I have been dismayed at this. Have I finally become a crochety old person? Have the youngun's passed me by with this new fangled development? Am I too old to learn? Is early adopter no longer in my vocabulary? It keeps me up nights.

I kept trying them, thinking maybe it was just teething issues. Thinking, hoping maybe you just had to grow into it.

But last week I cracked it. Well, Colin did really, but he had no idea his nonchalant observation would open the can of worms it did.

You see, as I tried to type on his iPad (with easel!), I was explaining that it was just untenable. Every single keystroke was wrong.

And then, in his nerdtastic way he said "oh, you touch type"

Which isn't really news, rare though it may be. I went to Catholic School. I had typing tests every week. There was a cloth over my hands when at the computer, and a nun behind me with a ready ruler, so I had to type without looking.

(Okay, the nun bit is a lie, but the cloth hand-fold isn't)

And back in 1989, that was a pretty big thing. That I'd grown up at a keyboard. That I knew what all the keys did. I was pretty proud of my fast little fingers (and certainly thankful of their speed when I had to transcribe interviews in college).

But now, oh now, it has let me down.

Now I am a dinosaur. No one can touch type these days (I can just hear the rachety granny voice now...). It's not a skill anyone cares about.

Most people still laze about with one index finger plucking away, no matter how many years they spend in front of the screen.

And the world of technology has cottoned on. Because people who look where their fingers are going don't care where the keys are. How far apart they are. How tall they are. If the size is changed a bit. If the rows are squashed to fit the netbook screen size. If there is no tactile difference to distinguish between the letters.

But my fingers, they learned a shape. They learned a ratio of movement. One that is consistent and useful, only so long as keyboards are a standard size.

And now, all these squishy, moving type boxes mean where I say H is could be a J or a G or even (gasp) an N.

No wonder I hate these fancy pants screens. They make me seem stupid for being the only person in the world who bothered to do it right in the first place. And now, they reward the lazy fuckers who never bothered. (it's official. I am old.)

But that's capitalism for you. Damn Apple.