Fascination with typed words
At 9 years-old the fact that my words could be typed up by my Dad’s secretary was a pure delight. The script was a play based on ‘Green Acres’, a new 1965 U.S. sitcom about a farm.
My play was silly, as was ‘Green Acres’, and short, but then it was written as a class project for our drama session with my influential speech and drama teacher, as unlikely as her name was – Paddy Field. She was my inspiration into adulthood. I loved her for boosting my confidence when speaking in public something I was to need in adulthood.
Six pages of neatly spaced script looked impressive on A4 paper. I waved them proudly at the friends I had selected to be in MY play. The only other play that day had been hand written, so mine looked more professional in the eyes of a child.
Today I am still mesmerised by the appearance of my own typed script. Today, typewriters seem destined for museums rather than the slick word processors we all have. Set on pristine 80g white paper, I waste time ogling my words as they appear spurred on by the intermittent drone of my HP printer.
The subject matter is more serious these days. My affection for the sight of printed words has not diminished, but my memories of that wonderful lady never fade. Share thoughts of someone who influenced your early life.