Message in a bottle

Dear Friend: 

I was in the mood to write a letter, and thought you might enjoy receiving one. Nothing long, nothing fancy. Just an old-fashioned letter between friends who miss the quaintness of addressing an envelope, attaching a stamp, putting it in a mailbox and then waiting for the reply. One week? Two weeks? I hope the letter gets there. Maybe I should go ahead and write you another.

There was a time when letter writing was the sole form of communication across distances. During the 1800s in Victorian London, postal carriers on their normal route would pass by your house up to 12 times a day. If you jotted down a quick message to someone across town, you’d more than likely get a return message by the end of the day, and be perturbed that you didn’t get it any faster.

And then in America, there was the Pony Express for sending a letter to your Aunt Edna out west. No need to worry. Don’t get distressed. That letter should get there in 10 days, at best.

We still romanticize The Pony Express, even though the service lasted only 18 months. The telegraph killed the Pony Express star, which morphed into the telephone, which made the fax machine possible, which eventually led to email and texting which have been cheaper ways of keeping friends and family updated on your comings and goings.

It’s not hard to see the future of letter writing coming to an end. Just look at Denmark as an example. PostNord, the Danish postal system, recently stopped delivering letters because hardly anyone was mailing them. Four hundred years of tradition usurped by the digital crusades of King Email and his evil sidekick Sir Text-A-Lot. The Danes will still be able to post letters through a private company, but it’s rotten I tell you. Plain rotten.

But all is not lost. Remember when we thought vinyl records were dead and buried, but then enthusiasts started buying them again? Now, some of the young folk out there are giving vintage technology (retro tech) a try, trading digital cameras for analogue and taking flip phones for a spin around the block, leaving their smartphones at home to wonder what they did wrong. Could a revival of letter writing be written in the stars? I don’t see why not.

Letter writing is a more tactile form of communication — the paper, a pen in your hand, a little smudge of wet ink on your shirt sleeve. And the best part is: once a letter is received, you can open it without two-step verification and it’s in your hands for real. It’s not sitting on some cloud somewhere. And your future kids and grandkids will be thankful for a treasure trove of your history that would have been lost for all time because they couldn’t find your digital password.

I know. I’m preaching to the choir. 

Well, I guess that’s all I’ve got to say about that. Kids are fine. Pets are fine. The weather’s fine. We’re just kinda boring over here. Oh, yes! I made another fruitcake this year, but I won’t bore you with the details. Just tell everyone we said hello, and I’ll write again soon. Your friend, always. Tracy Farr.

P.S. Feel free to write back. I wouldn’t mind hearing from you. You know, a simple letter, postcard from Hawaii, a belated Christmas card, a haiku (I’ve always loved your poetry), or maybe a funny story about your dog or cat. My address is still: Tracy Farr, P.O. Box 310, Mt. Pleasant, TX 75456-0310. I look forward to hearing from you. TF.