It should come as no surprise to many of you that I am something of an old soul. You know the type–delighting in conversation, a homebody and resistant to change. Lately my wife and I, first gadget-less and now without power, have found the simple pleasure of gardening. The five types of tomatoes we are growing seem to revel in the blistering heat the rest of us seek shelter from.
This post was written by candlelight on a legal pad and later transposed into WordPress. By now, you might’ve guessed that my aim for this post is to harken back to yesteryear. Oddly enough, before the power went out today, I purchased an entire case of Coca-Cola in glass bottles–nostalgic for an era gone by. Shortly thereafter, I was greeted with another instance of “be careful what you wish for,” as I’m enjoying them in this oppressive heat like the early summers of my memory. I suspect it won’t be long before I’m forced to sleep in the cold porcelain of the bathtub–the last remaining option for relief.
Buried in all of this is a wish that I had been born in another time–a time where things perhaps weren’t better, but had more integrity. A time when people made their own heat and meals off of the land that encompassed them like a womb.
Is it strange that a person who makes their living through digital and print communications wishes things were more like the old days? In the face of constant content, messages are becoming increasingly dumbed-down as each competes for your attention, and I fear that the Orwellian tragedy of Newspeak may be upon us. Sure, one can communicate concisely and efficiently with an economy of words, but in language we convey the expression of our hearts. Can I effectively express to you how I’m feeling in 140 characters or less? #epicfail.
Along with my growing inability to read anything in print, life’s new and constant media has also affected my penmanship. A readable hand is becoming as extinct as the QR Code. What’s that? That isn’t dead yet? Give it time… Anyway, the wanderer that is my spirit has recognized this devolving of basic language skills and I’ve decided to bring back a lost art in recompense–writing letters.
Starting this weekend, I’m going to draft letters to various people for various and random reasons. Maybe I’ll even write letters to some of my subscribers.Real letters.You know, with stamps? Let’s see what happens! I’ll even post any interesting and appropriate responses I receive.
How do you feel about the return of the letter, and making everything old new again?
Update: The minute my wife came home, the power came back on. I mean, the instant! Insert sappy love line here.