Tools of the Trade?

I've been having a conversation by letter recently with a friend of mine who is still held captive in the newspaper business. So, of course, the topic of conversation is often about words and writing. He's amazed that I use fountain pens and manual typewriters as much as I do for letter writing and other writing tasks.
In fact, if I'm writing something that I find important for whatever reason, I use these tools as first-draft implements. I often write things out longhand on legal pads and then do my first editing work as I type it all into the computer. On the surface it seems like more work to do it that way but I'm finding I get better results and a smoother finished piece when I start that way. I've also done the same with one of the many manual typewriters here.

Now, of course, I collect both of those implements and have more than my share. So at some level it's a juicy rationalization to say it improves my writing to use these tools. But I'm not alone, writertypes on ebay sells lots of beautifully restored typewriters and all of the ones he lists includes a long explanation of why using a typewriter is superior for writing as opposed to simply word-processing. He notes the computer is indispensable once the first draft is done and the first edits are done by hand on that draft. And I agree.
The most wonderful thing about computer word-processors is that "delete" key. It's also the most awful thing about them. The temptation to edit on the fly is too great and you can get locked up spending excessive time on one sentence and never move forward. You can also lose good work to that delete key and never be able to write it again as well as you did the first time.

We are all familiar with the cut and paste function on our word-processors. But we have lost the reasoning behind such a function. It used to be writers would write things and then discover they fit better somewhere else in their work, so they would literally cut them out with scissors and paste them into the right spot with rubber cement. I've seen pictures of copy desks from long ago with giant rubber cement pots set in the middle of all of those blue-pencil folk working over copy and making those cryptic editing and proofreading marks all over them. And I also think about how much better edited newspapers were in those days without the sloppiness that comes with spell check and other automation--not to mention the added workload dumped on those folks because of those innovations. Anyway, back to cut and paste. If you've deleted all of that work, you've got nothing to cut and paste. While zipping along you thought: "That just doesn't go there" as you hit that delete key. Five paragraphs later, you find you know exactly where that thought does go but now it's gone. Lost to the delete key. And, try with all that is in you, you'll never get it back exactly as you wrote it before.

So, tools of the trade. Have we outsmarted ourselves as writers?