Growing up in 70s/80s I vividly remember the special experience of receiving a letter. The envelope, the stamp, the handwritten address with my name, even the smell of the paper - all emanated magic. Every arriving letter was either a surprise or on a contrary a long awaited communication, preceded with many empty-handed returns from the mailbox and keen awareness of local mail delivery schedule.I learned early enough to appreciate reciprocity nature of communications. If I wanted to receive a letter from my grandma or from my Australian cousin Paul I had to find the will to write them a letter.
Writing a letter was of course a different experience, not quite like receiving one. It called for the discipline of setting aside time, thinking of the other person, paying attention to the grammar and appropriate style. It could take an hour or more to compose and scribe a letter. I would only do this for a person I cared about, and in most cases I was driven by the hope of getting a letter in response.
One day this simple and beautiful letter exchange experience has changed forever for me.
When I was 17 I founded a Youth Photo Club in my city. As I was looking to connect with other similar clubs across the country, I naively wrote a letter to the largest national youth newspaper at the time, seeking their advice. The editors simply reprinted my letter, complete with my home address.
Over the next several months the avalanche of letters, postcards, telegrams and even phone calls overwhelmed our household. People were reaching out from all corners of our vast country (we are talking Soviet Union in mid 80s) and even from abroad! Some went to length describing their unique life stories, some offered friendship and more, some asked for help.
On the first day, I wrote responses to all 5 letters. On the second day, I wrote responses to 9 letters. On the third day I mailed 18 stamped envelopes. I was beginning to run out of money for stamps, and by the time mailman begun dropping the letters in large bags I was struggling to just read all the letters. I could no longer write back.
This was the first time in my life I felt bad about not being able to respond to each and every letter I received. After all someone took time to be kind enough to write me a letter and affix a post stamp...
(to be continued)
Noooo, I can't wait for the sequel!!! I want it now!!!
ReplyDeleteLucky for you, you did not know what you know now: you would not start as you would have predicted that it could not be sustained. Lucky you did start, and now you have a story to tell, as well as a lesson learned.
ReplyDeleteUnlucky for you, you did not know what you know now and did not have the resources that you have now: if you managed such a response with a small newspaper add in the classified section, imagine the potential if you used the social media of today, (with some kind of an Agile product), you could have started an online community, with a few adds on the side, a few product placements, and many $$$ of passive income later, you would still have a story to tell...
twenty years from now you will write another blog: "Many years ago I posted on blogspot.com (??.au??.... really?)"..
Max, I am absolutely benefiting from modern social media these days, in almost exact way you describe, minus some sarcasm.
DeleteI only brought this old story up because of relatively low cost each individual had to pay to make me read their letter. Think about it. Someone with enough money for a postal stamp, or collectively lots of people with some free time to spare (low barrier to entry), could potentially run a denial of service attack by flooding me with letters, challenging my established approach to dealing with mail. Sooner or later I'd have to realize that my approach has got to change... the main point of this post.