I'm old enough to remember when authors of a certain vintage fetishized their manual typewriters. During their smug, how-I-create interviews, they would emphasize the physical process of setting down words on paper, as if the devices themselves somehow conveyed authenticity.
Let amateurs surrender to the siren call of newfangled electric typewriters or, God forbid, the soulless word processor. They were artists, and artists made a whap-whap-whap sound on their beloved Royals and Olympias.
That went away, eventually. Because manual typewriters are a pain. Computers are far easier, and they won. Technology always wins.
Still, before that inevitable victory, the two technologies existed side by side for a spell, the old and new, until the inferior one dies utterly clutching the curtains, decrying its doom.
We've entered that fatal last act with taxis. I never realized it until last week when I had one of those moments where the two technologies go head to head.
Something called the UI Labs invited me to visit, which required showing up at 1415 N. Cherry.
Had I been less busy, I'd have figured out where the nearest Divvy station was and biked over, it was only two miles from the newspaper.
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