The Art of Communication

Okay, I admit it.   I am one of those annoying people chronically tethered to an iPhone.  I am constantly checking my inbox for new messages, preferably of the personal variety.  But I'll take anything, really.  While I have always had the brand of impatience that makes me a natural victim of PDA dependence, I suspect that my current geographic location (nowheresville) and my "working from home" arrangement exacerbate the situtation.  Without the iPhone, I'd feel hopelessly out of touch.

On the flip side, my addiction to checking my snail mail is a thing of the past.  Aside from the holiday season or the few weeks following some baby shower or other gift giving event, there's nothing to look forward to there.  Bills and catalogues.  That's it.  What's the rush?  A semi-weekly visit does just fine.

Sometimes, when I sit down and think about it, this makes me a little sad.  Emails are fine and all, but they can't beat a bona fide letter, on beautiful stationery (or even a plain sheet of notebook paper), neatly packaged in a hand-addressed envelope.  I had the great fortune of beginning college at a time when people still wrote letters - when the Internet was only for techies and long distance phone calls were too steep for a student budget.  I went to my little Harrison Hall mailbox full of hope:  maybe this would be the day someone would be thinking of me ...

And often people did.  I once compiled all of my letters from my freshman year.  They filled two shoeboxes.  The stack dwindled during my sophomore year:  half a shoebox.  By senior year, it was no more than a handful.  And now, it is none.  Not a single non-Holiday card, non-invitation, non-thank you letter personal piece of mail.  I haven't gotten one in years.

I'm guilty of it too.  I can make my thoughts known in a matter of nanoseconds.  Why would I prolong them for a week and 44 cents?

Because they're more special that way, that's why.  I have a whole drawer full of cards and stationery.  Stamps and seals that are looking for an adventure.  So I guess that's my official New Year's resolution, two weeks in.  A hand written letter at least once a month.

I can do it.  And so can you.