IN "the olden days"- some time early to mid-1980s - I was a trainee reporter in Derby. I would sit at a big typewriter tapping out stories on small, flimsy pieces of paper - a large dictionary and correction fluid close at hand.

The trick was to write a story without any crossings out before handing the paper - which was of a similar quality to old-fashioned hard' toilet paper - over to the sub editor across the room.

His name was Maurice and he had a long white beard and wore cycling clips, for cycling through the Derbyshire peaks each day to work.

Later I would see my words transformed into physical hot metal and I would also help proofread the final text.

Within a couple of years I was on another paper in Buxton that boasted of having "direct input technology" - ie computers!

For some reason, those early screens were bright green and I would leave the office at the end of the day so dazzled by the glare I could hardly see!

This was particularly bad on a Monday, when I would work until 10pm writing the many obituaries of the week!

I mention all of this to make the point that I lived through the computer revolution; had hands-on experience of its evolution and have worked on computers for over 20 years.

So why do I still feel so computer illiterate? Why can I not fully grasp this technological world?

I can't even fathom how to use all the gadgets on my mobile phone and speed texting? Forget it!

I have a digital camera but still prefer the physicality of film with real prints.

We have four walk-around phones in the house - that constantly "walk" to places they cannot be found; I so prefer a phone that plugs in and stays there.

In my lounge at the moment sit two TVs, two DVD players, a video player, a Sky box, and an assortment of remote controls.

And I am ashamed to say I struggle to turn the TV on.

These days it seems you need an electronics degree to do the basic things.

I, however, have a three-year-old son who randomly presses every button there is and lands straight on his favourite CBeebies channel.