Typing:

     There are many things in my life that I regret being forced to do. However, being forced to learn typing is something I deeply value now.
      In my middle school years, I had handwriting that matched my father's. You see, my father was a physician. And yes, he had the handwriting to prove it. No one could read his scrawl. I have inherited this trait.  As a matter of fact, even today I do not use cursive because I can't even read it.
     Well, back in my middle school years, after many a teacher was unable to read my work, it was decided that I was going to take typing lessons. I'll tell you what. When I came into that classroom with its ocean of manual typewriters it was pretty discouraging. I detested the class but I had no choice.
     After I started using the typewriter for my work, it was discovered that I couldn't spell my way out of a paper bag either. Well, that hasn't changed.
    What has changed is that I type like the wind. Me and my spell checker work very hard together but she occasionally hits me across the knuckles with the keyboard. My wife, bless her soul, helps me with grammar and punctuation.
     As you can see, my writing is a team effort. If it were not for the fact I was forced to type as a child, I would never have been able to do any storytelling.
     The art of my storytelling, well you will have to be the judge of that. But I like my stories and isn't that why we express ourselves anyway?