It must have been something to pound out news stories amid the din and smoke of those early newsrooms. If I close my eyes, I can see myself back in the Thirties lost in a newsroom. Well, I have to learn to type first. I rue the day that I was never talked into taking a typing course in high school. Back then, Mom typed all my papers. In my collegiate years, my best friend, Chuck, pounded out papers on Romantic Poetry and Twentieth Century Authors, and all he asked in return was a few cold beers. Thanks Chuck! These days my keyboarding skills are still pathetically, embarrassing but I get the jobs done somehow. Elenka just shakes her head and rolls her eyes. Me? I just keep click, clacking away.