I grew up
using an ancient form of communication known as letter writing. Don't
laugh. In an earlier era, my only choice might have been
a hammer, chisel
and stone Morse code. Letter writing was not only an art, it
was also a skill and the reward for sweating over ever-so-thin Par Avion paper
with a fine point pen was to anxiously patiently wait for a response to
arrive in a mailbox by racing walking to it once a day instead of
clicking on a mouse every ten seconds.
gratification the form of reply took forever weeks if not months to
receive. But with it, came the feeling of the paper in your hands,
knowing that the words were written in a drunken stupor only for you.
Now that technology has advanced by leaps and bounds, the art of writing any
kind of letter, but love letters in particular, has all but been murdered by
the invention of the computer.
noticed how impersonal e-mail has become? Nobody even mentions
your name anymore in a salutation. Facebook and Twitter? They've
all but killed the potential beauty of written expression and reduced our lives
to self-promoting vapid Tweets and strange impersonal updates.
There's just no romance whatsoever going on in the world of communications.
And here I sit with a couple of hundred boxes of mushy old love letters
that I just can't bring myself to throw away. Who doesn't?
wonder why I'm keeping all these steamy missives
from you. Truth
be told, these love letters were written by me to and for
someone else. Okay, "elses" if you really must know. The amount
of written correspondence I have received in my lifetime from lawyers or the
IRS my nephew is negligible at best. There, I've just admitted it; I have
never received a love letter. In my life.
the years I have gotten my share of sappy greeting cards complete with a
signature (in ink no less) or cds of musical compilations
that were meant to
express what a man's vocabulary could not. Those were the precursors
to what we do on daily basis now. They are like instant messages with
emoticons but carry no real feeling. Worst of all, you have to pay for
them. Yeah, I laugh my ass off just reading that you spent $4.99 on that
crappy card that sells by the thousands was hand-picked just for me.
to realize love letter writing is almost a completely lost art. That I
have never been the recipient of a bonafide love letter of any kind may
support this theory. And even though I'm not sure I'm ready to receive one just
yet, I thought I would provide a public service to any man who is verbally
paralyzed or emotionally challenged thinking about writing a love letter to
me in the future by sharing what I'm hoping I will never read:
What's your Name. Sexy or Fill in the Blank Patricia:
with you was really hot
especially as I was picturing that babe from the
porn website I visit each morning when you're in the shower. When I
look into your eyes I always have to remind myself what color they are so I
can remember if you ask, all I can see is how we have no future
nothing but time.