A Letter to Pete Townshend

There once was a thing called a letter. Today we have the internet.

For the record, I have a social media account. I use it solely for garnishing more readers to my website. Perhaps, I take a few pictures of an awesome meal I prepared or post something inspirational and full of nature. I happen to follow a couple of smart people as well. It’s not just social media, we can text and have a conversation back and forth with someone and never hear their voice. Never hear their laughter, LOL!

It’s intoxicating how fast information is served up and consumed. Everything that happens, can be ingested instantly.

I live pretty rural. My speedy internet is always having a coffee break somewhere. It takes forever to get my laptop to load up. Not to mention, cell service is sketch at times. There are perks. People who come over have to actually talk. They have no choice but to engage. Visitors are forced to sit with a glass of wine in hand and join me on the front porch while watching the chickens run around the barnyard.

First, they are shocked, “How can that be?”  They shake their phone as if it might help get better service.

A feeling of anxiety follows. What will they do now?  

“Learn to knit.” I tell them. “Learn a handcraft or hobby. Talk to people, face to face as much as you possibly can.”

“Or you might forget how.”

When I was fifteen, I wrote a letter to Pete Townshend. I told him I thought he was a freaking genius for the album Quadrophenia. I made sure to mention I liked his solo recordings too. I may have even told him I was his biggest fan.

I mailed it and to this day, I can still remember that feeling of hopefulness. I just mailed a letter to Pete Townshend and in some time, he will write me back.

I believed it.

After quite a few weeks, I still hadn’t heard anything. I shrugged my shoulders. Perhaps he never received it. After all, it’s Pete Townshend. I bet he had thousands of letters in his mailbox. At least I had tried.

Six months later in my mailbox stood a large yellow envelope. It had my name on it along with strange postage. I opened it up and lo-and-behold, it was a signed picture of Mr. Pete Townshend himself.

Today, we can tap a few buttons and voila, an instant shout out. Most times an instant shout-back. Call me old-fashioned, but I miss the days of opening the mailbox and seeing an envelope with my name on it, knowing in my hand is a letter full of news and possibilities. Right now, in the times we are facing, a bit of anticipation after sending a letter feels more organic. More my style.

So, I will put some action to my pen. Make sure to check your mailbox, there just might be a letter in it from me.