I taught myself to type. Amazing isn’t it? You’d never guesowa4er.
I had a book. A kind of spiral bound thing that came with the typewriter. Yes – a proper typewriter with ribbons and everything. And this book had typing exercises and sentences for you to type in order to improve your skills. The person who devised this typing course really used their ingenuity to make sure no key went untapped. Tricky combinations of letters were clearly a priority. The quick brown fox looked very dull by comparison.
Let me tell you, once you make it mandatory to include z u x q j and k in every sentence, you move into a bizarre parallel universe that resembles nothing so much as an episode of Mapp and Lucia. Some of those sentence are with me still:
Bezique was the game often played to vex Jake.
Pack my box with exactly half a dozen jugs of liquid veneer.
The bad major will fix a quiet, cozy nook for the vexed gypsy.
Vaulting over the larkspurs brought him a dozen worries.
Now that’s a universe I wouldn’t mind inhabiting!