The other day, I received one of those out-of-the-blue emails from a woman on the Pacific coast. It had to do with the fact that this woman had once taken a class at Smith College with my father, a teacher of Shakespeare.
In this day and age, if I had been one of my kids, I suppose I might have searched the internet for some background on the woman, but that was not my first reaction. I like the magic of individuals coming into contact and then feeling the relationship burgeon. Only later did I look this woman up and find that she was a writer. And somehow, because I learned more about her, I knew less.
My kids might have gone immediately to the internet and its details that seemed to tell the tale and yet left the tale untold: Why had I received this email? What was the impetus? What magic had been aroused and why?
It's always an unsure thing, these blind emails. What is it that moves a person to take the time? How crazy -- if at all -- is s/he? The internet, which can assert its capacity to bring people closer together, is more given to increasing the spaces between them. What could I give in return to this out-of-the-blue magic ... and was it wise to do so?
I like the contact and yet am unsure how to respond adequately or appropriately.
Ah well, perhaps the whole thing will drop off the edge of some flat earth -- disappear into some change-of-heart silence that will remain silent.
My kids rely on the internet. And on occasion, I too am wooed to the smiles that are shadows of the Real McCoy. I'm a fan of an honest, face-to-face smile, relationships reaching out like some ravenous honeysuckle vine. The internet cannot provide that so....
I guess whatever I am trying to say here will be consigned, as elsewhere, to the basket marked "patience."
In this day and age, if I had been one of my kids, I suppose I might have searched the internet for some background on the woman, but that was not my first reaction. I like the magic of individuals coming into contact and then feeling the relationship burgeon. Only later did I look this woman up and find that she was a writer. And somehow, because I learned more about her, I knew less.
My kids might have gone immediately to the internet and its details that seemed to tell the tale and yet left the tale untold: Why had I received this email? What was the impetus? What magic had been aroused and why?
It's always an unsure thing, these blind emails. What is it that moves a person to take the time? How crazy -- if at all -- is s/he? The internet, which can assert its capacity to bring people closer together, is more given to increasing the spaces between them. What could I give in return to this out-of-the-blue magic ... and was it wise to do so?
I like the contact and yet am unsure how to respond adequately or appropriately.
Ah well, perhaps the whole thing will drop off the edge of some flat earth -- disappear into some change-of-heart silence that will remain silent.
My kids rely on the internet. And on occasion, I too am wooed to the smiles that are shadows of the Real McCoy. I'm a fan of an honest, face-to-face smile, relationships reaching out like some ravenous honeysuckle vine. The internet cannot provide that so....
I guess whatever I am trying to say here will be consigned, as elsewhere, to the basket marked "patience."
How many decades since his time at Smith College? He must have made an impression on her.
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