Change

 

We old fogies have a keen memory of the distant past, although we often lack the recollection of more recent events. In fact we long for “the good old days” because we don't remember how bad they were. And that's the way it was when we were young – though it was our elders who bemoaned our “excesses” – those of what was then “modern society.”

There are many possible examples of this situation, but for today I'll limit myself to communication. When I was young,ⁱ there were such things as telegrams and face-to-face conversations and shmoozing over a cup of coffee. There were some party-line telephones left as well. And letters. And we knew only as much about our correspondent as he chose to tell us individually. There was no Facebook, Twitter, and Google, and people actually talked to each other. In full sentences.ⁱⁱ It was expensive to make a telephone call,ⁱⁱⁱ and sometimes took a good deal of time.^iv But it was a treasured experience.

The most treasured of the experiences though – at least for me – was waiting for the delivery of the mail. It happened twice a day then,^v but the excitement never palled. We didn't receive very much mail, but what we got was usually important. We didn't get pounds of magazines, catalogs, political messages, solicitations, and unwanted advertising. Sure, we got bills,^vi but most of all we got letters.^vii

When was the last time you received meaningful mail? When was the last time someone wrote, by hand, words intended for you alone?^viii When was the last time you waited eagerly for the arrival of a personal letter? I suspect it's been a while.^ix

I marvel at the new, but sometimes I miss the old. With the internet and instant messaging I can communicate rapidly and with VoIP, and a program like Skype, I can hold a conversation with someone on the other side of the world. In fact I do. I speak with my daughter and her children frequently, even though we are thousands of miles apart. Technology is wonderful. Who ever dreamed that we'd be able to do this.^x

But technology only responds to our whims. And things are moving faster than we could have guessed. Too fast. In fact, everything is moving too fast. Instant gratification has become the goal in every aspect of our lives. Hence all the tools for instant messaging. Too many of us seem to think that others are interested in what they're thinking and doing in “real time.” And, sadly, it appears that a lot of people are. Hence texting, twittering, and all their relatives. And the rapidly changing statuses of people on Facebook^xi demonstrate that they are mercurial and have too much available time to tell everyone about it.

But I'm a hermit. I don't care if others don't know where I am or what I'm doing. In fact I prefer it that way. I'll let them in on it if I choose to do so – not simply to satisfy their curiosity. I've stopped answering my telephone when the “Caller ID” either doesn't tell me who's calling, or unmasks someone to whom I don't wish to speak. It must be galling to the caller, but I also throw out mail in which I'm not interested and I erase spam from my computer.

I admit it. I'm a throwback. In fact I'd admit more, but I'd rather look out the window and see if the mailman is coming.

Next episode: “Common Sense” – Do it yourself.

iYes. I know. You've heard that before and it bores you. I hope it won't turn you off entirely, though, and that you'll read this essay.

iiAnd with reasonably accurate grammar and orthography.

iiiIndeed, we developed codes and ringing patterns, as well as “person-to-person” long distance requests that allowed us to send messages without ever completing a call and incurring a charge.

ivEspecially with international calls, which often had to be scheduled in advance.

vPost Office costs have sky-rocketed since then, and deliveries have been scaled back as the cost of postage has increased. The government is spending billions of dollars for what used to be primarily a patronage system.

viMost of them now come by e-mail and are paid on line.

viiAnd a letter cost three cents to mail. In all likelihood a local letter would be delivered the next day, or the day after at the latest.

viiiAll right. I have to get this off my chest. When I write a letter I use a computer and word processor. My handwriting is bad and I sometimes can't read what I've written, so I can't expect the recipient to understand it. So it's really not hand-written. Some other advantages are that it saves paper (more words to the page), corrects my spelling, and leaves a copy for me. But the letter is for the individual and so crafted and personalized. And it is written typed by hand.

ixSome people discard mail nowadays without even opening it. It's a waste of time to do so. There's so little that is worth the effort.

xWe may be impressed. but the next generation will wonder how we were able to get by with such primitive technology and tools.

xiAnd their friends.