There is a conspiracy. I’m not normally a conspiracy-theorist, I’m willing to believe that men really did land on the moon, Princess Diana’s death actually was an accident and President Kennedy was shot by a lone loony.
However, when it comes to keyboards, which play a major part in my life (wot wiff me bein’ a awfur) there is most definitely a conspiracy going on.
I learned to touch type at a Secretarial School in Leeds which led to jobs in the newspaper industry and eventually being a PA. All this time on a British (QWERTY) keyboard. So when I moved to France I found that some bugger had moved a few of the keys around, added squiggles all over the shop and generally done their best to make my efforts at touch typing in English come out as a cross between Klingon and Frontier Gibberish.
After twenty-odd years here I am now unable to use anything but a French AZERTY keyboard. What is left of the brain tells the fingers to pop along to the right places whether I’m writing in French or English. Not a problem. Even in Spain I found my way around because they had amusingly added upside down punctuation without altering the general layout of the keys.
QUERTY is going to be coming back to bite my backside. I know this will be a battle of wills because the last time I was in Scotland I borrowed my Auntie Mu’s laptop to send a few emails and stared in horror at the tas de merde that had appeared on the screen while I was staring out of the window and typing away. Having been given a new toy, a Nexus 7, I thought it would be nice to have a keyboard/case and dived onto the net to find one. Only QUERTY available…or German. Oh ye gods!
I had a squint at it. The effect was rather the way I put on my make up – throw it in the air, stand under it and see how it falls. Either that or an explosion in a Rubik’s Cube factory with letters, squiggly bits and odd capitals. Something tells me that my cerebral filing system is going to have to remember where the British keys are, going back to my exercises (A S D F, semi L K J to a metronome) rather than play an unequal game with a totally new plan. Small grey cells would be squeaking “Hey! Gissa break! We are already struggling with a lot of damage here, mate. The engines cannae take it, Captain!”