A lost letter falls from a book…
My friend Harley writes me the most exquisite letters. Full on typewriter mode, single-spaced, filled with postcards and ephemera from a life well lived. He found me when I went through that typewriter letter phase… which I’m still in but instead of creating a letter subscription out of it I just type letters to penpals.
He has probably sent me 500 letters over the last few years.
All full of gorgeous poetic musings, typed at a clip reminiscent of a jazz tune.
The ratio is severely off. He sends me way more than I send in return. I’m working on it.
Yesterday I was looking through my stash of old books that I procured from a book fair last year. I opened it and a few pages fell out.
It was a letter passed between two people who wrote back and forth on the same page.
The original chat.
And it was from 1965. GLORIOUS!
As I read it, I felt like I was spying. Here are a few choice bits of lovelorn high school angst between Wayne and Marilyn:
Dear Wayne, I am terribly down today. Jamie doesn’t even talk to me anymore. He doesn’t even seem to care. We used to be real good friends but now we’re not even that. Who is going on Friday? Is he?
Dear Marilyn, I don’t know who is going on Friday. I don’t know Jamie’s feelings, but don’t worry. You seem okay without him.
And then later, talk of a hootenanny. I mean, the word HOOTENANNY!
Dear Wayne, No one else gets to me, even the guy from Galt. He likes me but I’m not really gone on him. Hey on Saturday there is a hootenanny at Barton High. A lot of bands from different schools. They are just letting 800 kids in. Can you all come? Bring Jamie?
Dear Marilyn, I will try to find out Jamie’s feelings. No one will ever know. I promise.
Then gossip about that hussy Judy:
Dear Marilyn, Judy told me Mobe likes Heather more than Heather likes Mobe.
Dear Wayne, Did you know Judy almost went all the way one night last year?
Then possible flirting?
Dear Marilyn, Your hair looks neat. Who are you going to the dance with?
Dear Wayne, Sib is going with me. She’s a riot. But it’s no fun with just Sib and I. Will you be there?
A RIOT! Oh the language of yesteryear. So fun!
There is more. All about what Wayne said about Gord (not good) and a new indifference to Jamie from Marilyn… likely due to a slew of notes with Wayne. Oh the intrigue.
The book itself was dedicated to Fern. One of those great old names. I hope it comes back in fashion.
These bits of paper will be going in with my next letter to Harley. He, an avid letter writer, will likely pop them in the post to someone else who will get a kick out of them and send them on to another penpal. And so it goes, like telephone wires linking people across countries.
California desert phone lines and turbines.
Speaking of letters, thanks for your kind words about the previous Catherine O’Hara post. I read every message in between putting together my February Cottage Letter, which went out last week:
This letter is about love and lemons. About harsh winter days and love notes from friends. And it includes details of yet another book that had interesting papery tidbits falling out of it. I’d love to send one your way.
You can now buy them one month at a time from my website.
This is a new feature. New things. A necessary propelling into the future. The original letter subscription girl is finally getting with the times.
You can still get them from Etsy as well, but not in an automated one per month format. I do love Etsy most of the time. It’s this little world with me and you. But sometimes the features can’t keep pace with what customers want.
Progress. Here we are.
In other news, these newbies have been on the market for a week and they are glorious:
In celebration of the notecard box set, I think we should all eat more bread and cheese.
-Janice
