Isolation, Photo Friday

Love Letters in the Internet Age

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.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NGgIwOElATI

Trading Places

Concert

Last night I attended a concert with a friend for a Girl’s Night Out. It’s been a long time since she saw a live musical performance and this was a treat since it was a small venue and we had some eye candy too. Now I’m not a musician, so maybe this following description is not unusual

or even that great of a feat, but we were both impressed. First Jay Nash, the person who I went to see, came on by himself and played a song, just him and his guitar. This is what I expected for his entire set, yet instead for the second song he invited the drummer for Greg Laswell’s band on stage to accompany him. Then for another song he invited the guitarist for Greg Laswell’s band on too. There was a lot of talk about the four musicians traveling and touring together in the drummer’s Toyota Sienna (minivan no less!). Soon Greg Laswell was onstage to play keyboards, and it was then that I began to understand the friendship and compatibility between these musicians. They didn’t let their egos get in the way, but instead relished being onstage accompanying one another. They were able to rock out to one of Jay’s songs when he got on the electric guitar and the guitarist got on the bass and everyone looked like they were having too much fun.
I figured after Jay’s set he might sit back and view the rest of the concert, possibly joining them onstage for one song. I talked with him between sets and he asked if I was staying to see Greg’s performance-of course I was. For the second song, they invited Jay onstage to play the bass. The story goes something like this: when they found out they were touring together Jay said they had about enough musicians to make up a full band and should he bring a bass-not that any of them played bass, but it provided a good opportunity to learn. The shared bass was born. After that round Greg tried his guitar and finding it was out of tune Jay offered up his, even assisting to strap it on him. It brought a lot of laughs, but here again was an example of musicians comfortable enough to switch places, try new instruments and even offer up a favorite piece of equipment.
Of course these are seasoned performers and they know what makes for an appealing presentation. I marvel at people that can get on stage and be so natural and at ease with themselves and the audience. But last night was a lesson in sharing, something my two preschool boys could take a lesson in.