What is to become of all the text messages, e-mails and instant messaging that people pass back and forth on a regular basis? Or even more important what is to become of the love letter? Has it already disappeared? I am sure some still put pen to paper and compose a letter for their significant other, but for the teenagers of the Internet age what are they to do. Do they print off what their boyfriend wrote to them, and tuck it under their pillow. Somehow it seems impersonal. Will the teenagers even get when Ryan Adams sings Come Pick Me Up (what I believe to be one of the best songs in recent rock and roll):
Or will you cower in fear
In your favorite sweater
With an old love letter
Adams must value the letter as he sings in yet another song:
When you get the time
Sit down and write me a letter
When you're feeling better
Drop me a line
I get it and I agree. When was the last time you received a letter that was not a birthday card?
I have several shoe boxes full of love letters. Two boxes are from my husband and were sent primarily when he was away in Alaska the first summer of our romance and then another one entirely dedicated to his 27 months spent as a Peace Corps volunteer in Guatemala. It is amusing to glance through them and recount the early parts of our relationship. My sons may not be apt to read them when they are older (and there are a few I don’t want them to get a hold of), but maybe their wives or future daughters will.
I then have yet another box full of my first real boyfriend’s letters to me. I re-read them a couple of years ago after I re-connected with him. They were good to have read because it reminded me of why and how the relationship failed.
So as I listen to Ryan Adams sing about letters, it brings me back to correspondence without the aid of the postal service. It does not have the same romance, sitting waiting expectantly for that e-mail to come through. Does the receiver even question if the sender is sending it? At least with a letter you can recognize the sender’s handwriting. I remember waiting for days for the post to come and being thrilled when I would reach in and see the red, white and blue air mail envelope peeking out from the various catalogues and bills. Now there is no thrill in walking down the driveway to the mailbox, at least not for me.
1 comment:
I copied all of my ex's early emails onto a cd. Still have it!a
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