Write Me a Letter, Soon

Communication takes quite a few more forms than it did in the past. It doesn't seem so long ago that we communicated by "long distance," letter or in emergency situations, telegraph. As I am grateful for the efficiency and availability of our new and improved methods of communicating, my recollections suggest that we have sacrificed something in the way of warmth or personalization in deference to bytes and nanoseconds.

As a child, I was very excited to have the opportunity to correspond with a pen pal in Portugal. If we ask our children and grandchildren what they would define as a pen pal, that term has probably gone the way of teletype, orange juice cans with string and diaries. By no stretch of imagination can it be equated with a BFF. Opening an email will never duplicate the feeling derived from a letter with a European stamp. True, at the time it required two or three weeks for letters to get to their destinations, but somehow the anticipation contributed immeasurably to the excitement of receipt.

And so I fear that the classic and unique art of letter-writing is about to become obsolete. Stationery stores still carry the necessary supplies and if you look in the right locations, you're still able to find distinguished pens and sealing wax. Periodically I encounter those who eschew computers and will stay firmly based in paper transmission of information until their final moments. But even they are cognizant of being dinosaurs, refusing to succumb to the trends that supersede their oldest and most treasured media.

If you get beyond the nostalgia and sentimentality associated with letter-writing and examine the pitfalls of emails, the differences become quite glaring. With few exceptions, the written letter (especially between friends, family and lovers) is typically a carefully devised work of dedication and sincerity. Emails, however, are often abrupt and much more abrasive than intended, only because the medium dictates speed, brevity, acronyms and abbreviations, none of which lend themselves to intimacy.

On a professional level, I have often observed that the most personable of persons often appear to be cranky and critical in an email when you would never receive that sort of presentation in person or by letter. Personal emails also take on a flavor of immediacy as compared to their handwritten counterparts. Can we make a blanket statement that this is a "bad" state in which to find ourselves? Probably not. But as a writer, I am certainly comfortable within the more traditional or old-fashioned forms of communication where many who are less agile prefer the quickness of electronic media.

My crusade to preserve the older forms of correspondence will have no chance of success and I suspect that it shouldn't. After all, this is purely my preference and although I suspect that there are many out here who will agree with me, we have no ability to halt progress and high-speed data transmission. All of the clichés pertaining to changing the world one piece at a time occur to me. This one is simply too massive for me to have any impact whatsoever. However, anyone who knows me will be able to predict correctly that the impossibility of making global impact will have no bearing on my habits.

And so on occasion, I will polish my fountain pen and retrieve my note cards or legal pads to dash off a note or epic-length letter to a friend or loved one. I haven't yet consented to the trendy habit of sending newsy, annual holiday letters that describe births, deaths and travels. Why? Most of the time these are too long, too detailed and of too little interest to most folks. But I always personalize cards, be they holiday or otherwise.

In the attempt to make certain that I don't fall victim to email minimalism/severity, I always spend more time on any email than its format might dictate. This is done by visualizing the message in a long-hand format, wondering if it would have the same effect and translation. I hope that I don't offend by virtue of my surrender to technology's efficiencies. And I continue to hope that we are teaching our children the intrinsic value of old books and letters, where penmanship and content were more indicative of character than the size and speed of one's CPU.