Real mice made me jittery, so I was surprised to fall in love with Mickey Mouse from my first glimpse. Minnie Mouse vied a close second for my affection, with Pluto, a cartoonish dog, trailing third. The mouse love affair ended when I graduated from elementary school. In high school, I had a crush on a Royal Electric typewriter. My next love was an IBM Selectric that enhanced my words-per-minute goal. That was replaced by a word processor, then a computer,
My first adventure with a word processing program on a desktop computer occurred long ago during a mouse-less era. Quick and efficient keyboard shortcuts before and after the words enhanced plain fonts. Control B for Bold. Control I produced italics. Control U underlined the designated text. Control P automatically printed the page. When a mouse appeared at every computer in our office one morning, I disdained the claim that it would replace the shortcut commands.
I despised moving my right fingers from “home row” to the man-sized mouse resting on an eight-inch square pad to my right. I had to position the mouse at one end of the text, drag to the other to highlight, and choose commands like B, I, or U from top menu hampered my speed and agility. The giant mouse and I fought a battle. The mouse won.
The touch pad, that magical rectangle between the heels of my palms on my laptop computer home row, brought mouse-less technology too late for me. I refuse to abandon my mini-mouse companion. Less than 3 x 2 and only an inch high, it’s a perfect fit for my petite hand. I compromised. I embrace my mouse but cling to the shortcuts.
It’s difficult to separate the mirror twin shortcuts of Control Z and Control Y. In one quick upward curve of the mouse, the pointer hovers over the left arrow in the taskbar ribbon at the top of my screen. A visible message reminds me to use keyboard strokes Control Z for the short cut. Thanks anyway, but since I’m here already, I’ll click the icon.