Touching and Hitting

When my first child was very young and her mother and I would guide her actions, one of the cautions that we used with her was to “be gentle,” especially when she was overexcited and would slap at those who were trying to calm her. We would rub our hands on her face, softly saying to her, “gentle, gentle.” Fast-forward to my third grandchild, who has been taught to calm her caresses in the same way: “Gentle, gentle.” She has also learned the Spanish word for gentle: “Suave, suave.” I hear television advertising promotions roaring at me, encouraging me to look up a vendor, or to make a purchase, or to verify information, and when the task is done, to communicate with the vendor: “Hit send!” None of the electronic devices that I use for communication require the kind of force implied in “hit.” I touch an indicated key and the information is soundlessly transmitted.
When I was a student at Indiana University Southeast in 1981, my papers were prepared on a typewriter. I would press a key and an arm would rise and strike the ribbon of carbon and imprint a letter on the paper scrolled around the platen. You can identify people who have spent years on a “manual typewriter” when they work on a computer keyboard. They will apply far more force than necessary to achieve the result. With all the quiet keyboards and keypads featured on our devices, why are we being advised to “hit” a key? A British man once said to me in response to my caution to “knock on wood,” that in his country, they say “touch wood.” This was sometime in the late 1980s, before cell phones were common across the country.
Tape recorders used to have tapes on which sounds were recorded, and when one wanted to activate the device, one pressed a key; there would be an audible “click” as the recording mechanism went to work on the tape, and if one listened closely, a “hiss” could be heard as the tape wound from one reel to another. Another strong press on another key would result in a “click” that signaled a stoppage in the recording activity. Those keys were moving and slapping, unlike what happens when we record something on our cellphones. We no longer even push a key to play something unless we have an old-school device, so why are we being encouraged to “hit” send?
In 1966, Eddie Floyd released a song called “Knock On Wood,” and spoke of the “thunder… lightning,” of a love relationship, and the need to “knock on wood” for safety. Four years later, in 1970, Diana Ross released “Reach Out and Touch (Somebody’s Hand)” a song that was used in an ad campaign by Ma Bell — the American Telephone and Telegraph Company — to encourage people to make long distance calls. (Ross released “Touch Me In The Morning,” in 1973, so touching was a theme.) This was years after the touch-tone telephone had replaced the rotary dial phone, so we were still not hitting anything. In 2001, the rock band Aerosmith released a song called “Just Push Play.” Though the song was a “hit,” our electronic communication devices were beyond the stage of needing to be struck.
Knock on wood or touch wood? Hit play, or push play? Hit send or press send? The advertising hyperbole tends toward a more aggressive approach to our manipulation of the devices we use to communicate with our friends, neighbors, and creditors, but the ways in which we do so are kinder, gentler. (Thanks, George.)
Let’s just touch.

cjon3acd@att.net