Back in August I decided to buy a typewriter. I’ve never really used one — I learned typing in “Informatique” class in French immersion in 1989, a class that, as I recall, spent a great deal of time on teaching us how to plug our monitors in, when it wasn’t teaching us hands on home row. But I wanted one for a few reasons.

First, because I’m sick (literally) of spending so much time staring into a computer screen. I am starting to feel like Jimmy Jet and His TV Set, that soon my eyes wil...