By Jeff Keeling
“Be there in a ninute.”
“I left then on the counter.”
If you haven’t been the recipient of multiple text messages like those shown above, my guess is you either don’t have a cell phone or you’re one of those people who considers telephones good for one thing – talking.
Texting is ubiquitous these days, and with those tiny keys and our penchant for multitasking, so are text typos. I know many of you, upon noticing that you just hit “send” and your message included a typo, are prone to send a follow up text with the corrected word or words.
Guess what? I already knew what you meant. Guess what else? Until a couple of weeks ago, I usually did the same thing when I discovered I had sent a message with an error in it.
But no more. Because like you, when I am the recipient of a typo correction, or sometimes even a correction of a correction, the follow up messages are almost always completely unnecessary. When we’re already planning to meet and you, guessing that I’m already at our destination, text to let me know, “Be there in a ninute,” I know exactly what you mean.
So I am resolved to do you the favor of not correcting my easily translatable text typos. And for some strange psychological reason, stern resolve will be required for me to resist the urge to correct myself.
I’m sure there are psychologists or sociologists out there who can explain to me exactly what it is in the human psyche or the collective unconsciousness that compels so many people to engage in such a completely unnecessary exercise. If the scholarship hasn’t commenced, I would gladly accept a six-figure grant to study the phenomenon.
I also know – because I’ve also received your texts – that some of you out there let the message fly and move on, unconcerned not just with typos but even with the occasional unintelligible missive. I admire your relaxed approach.
For the many who do practice text typo correcting, just as an experiment, try to refrain the next few times you notice a mistake. I’m betting your fingers will itch.