Ears to Hear

Reflections on the time around October 20, 1975

Dear ’30,

In ’80, we were trained to say this: “I am waiting for my classmates, sir.” Sometimes, this was recited while standing at attention. More often, in a position termed “front leaning rest.” Pretty much the plank position. We remained in that posture until the missing classmates arrived.

I suppose the purpose of this training/hazing was to emphasize that we are to move as one. No one heads out on a mission until the whole team is assembled.

Well, the lesson stuck with me. I was planning to write about a different topic, but my classmates brought up the topic of cursive handwriting, and we move as one.

What happened is that I posted in our Class of ’80 Facebook group to let everyone know that I am starting this blog for you. To illustrate, I took a picture of the notepad I am writing on right now. One classmate said, “It’s in cursive; they’ll never be able to read it.” I explained that this is just my preferred method of composing a draft. For me, the ideas flow better with pen on paper, but the blog will be typed and posted online. Another classmate responded, “No, Bob! Keep it in cursive. It’s stylish and soulful.” He thought you would enjoy the challenge of reading old-school style.

What do you think? Obviously, you are reading this in typed form. But if you agree with Classmate #2, I have an offer for you. Drop me a comment below, and I’ll send you a hand-written letter. Maybe we could become “pen pals.”

This brings up a theme I hope to develop in my blog – the difference between the analog way of life and the current digital approach. The Class of ’80 witnessed the transition from one to the other. The Class of ’30 has only known the latter. That’s okay, it’s not your fault, and I don’t suggest turning back the clock. I just want to share the richness of the old ways. There does seem to be an interest, judging from the resurgence of vinyl.

The thing I miss the most is the freedom of not being connected, not being prompted by algorithms, not being able (expected) to access information in an instant. It’s hard to describe how much more relaxing that was, even though it was also less convenient. Navigating to a new place required reading a map, which usually meant getting lost at least once. But getting lost also could mean finding something cool that you didn’t even know was there. Like that, there was more time to think before replying to someone who was communicating with you. After receiving a letter, you had time to mull things over, to sleep on it. The tangible letter sat there on your desk as an analog prompt unttil the words came, and then you took out pen and paper to write them down. It was slower, much less efficient, but yes, more “soulful and stylish.”

Would you like to give it a whirl?

Robert