The Logitech illuminated keyboard. Perfect for those of us who stagger from the bedroom to the coffee pot and then to the office for a bout of early morning writing before we go to our day jobs (where if we are lucky or perhaps cursed, we also write). The keyboard’s backlit, so you can see the letters in the dark. That means you don’t need a boatload of light in the room, which matters more than I can say. Small desk lamp, lit keyboard. It’s perfect. The keyboard is also thin, and I’m getting used to that. But the key action, sweet mother, it’s fine. I’m old enough to have started my typing life on the ancient IBM Selectric, and my fingers have rarely met a computer keyboard that did not offend them in some way. But this little hummer, it’s like tooling around for most of your life in a Honda Civic and then somebody gives you the keys to the Lamborghini. Fingers flyin’. Christmas gift from my beloved who knows technology. Probably not cheap.
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In the newsroom where I work cost-cutting measures have led the brain trust there to buy the worst pens on the planet. Since I spend a big chunk of my work week furio
usly scribbling down what people say to me, I hate bad pens. You have to press hard. The ink often skips and you lose precious seconds while someone has moved on from one brilliant thought to the next, which you only caught half of because of the stupid pen. (Audio recordings require more time to transcribe, so reporters on tight deadlines don’t use them.)I launched my own search for a decent pen and found a surprisingly good one. Who knew Sharpie, maker of those big fat markers, had a lovely little fine point? The pen feels good in my hand, the ink flows quickly and doesn’t skip. Sharpie’s claims that it doesn’t bleed through aren’t quite accurate. It mostly doesn’t.
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No words in this documentary of a Himalayan trip organized for injured or PTSD suffering British veterans. Yet it conveys so much.
