Thursday, June 5, 2008
A lost art.
When is the last time you wrote a letter and I mean got out stationary and a real pen, stuffed it in an envelope with a stamp (or if your like me, several stamps that you hope add up to roughly the right amount) and put it in a mailbox--you know the kind by the side of the road or perhaps the kind hanging from the side of your house? If you are an offspring of Mavis I am sure you do your share of posts to Florida, but besides that? Even invitations and thank you notes are sent electronically. Again as a descendant of Mavis-and possibly Martha Stewart-I feel obligated to send out the real thing. Besides I can be as creative as I want and express my personality (of course there are times when e-mail comes in handy for the anonymity if you know what I mean). I love to write in any way, shape or form (I wish that part of me had been unleashed in high school and early college--perhaps I was so busy writing and editing the Big Guy's papers that I had no time to enjoy my own). I don't know about you, but going to the mailbox (and I have a lot of time to think on that long hike-no mailbox hanging by my front door. I am lucky if the one at the end of the drive way is still standing each morning) for me holds great anticipation. Will it be all junk mail and bills or will there be something really exciting in there- a letter, an invitation, a check you didn't know was coming-maybe a package? It's a different kind of thrill than opening an email--knowing that someone took the time to "snail mail" you something. Go ahead and make someone's day-mail them a letter. Throw a little cash in there and you'll really make someone dance.