What I enjoy as far as writing and reading are concerned is letters. How’s that for a probably grammatically incorrect sentence? But that’s the thing about letters, they are a free-form creative writing experience. My aforementioned schizophrenic-diagnosed cousin is the only person these days who I receive actual letters from on a regular basis. He doesn’t wax schizophrenic in his letters except once in a while. Usually he makes positive comments (“I love you very much, David!” “God bless you and your brothers and families!”) with a few current events in his life thrown in, in about a half-page letter. He has a good memory, and when my brother Jeff and I visited him last weekend at Van Buren Health & Rehab (danged big place) one thing he asked about was who was in the auto accident in Missouri. That would be Jeff, in 1976, when he was returning with a friend for a visit to Westminster College, from which he'd graduated the previous year. (Jeff’s spleen was removed, but before the surgery was done, it was touch-and-go because of internal bleeding and Jeff had to be airlifted from a small town hospital to Springfield. Jeff and I were living together in Little Rock at the time, but that night I was staying in Pine Bluff with two of my younger brothers when the small-town doctor called, asking for Jeff’s father. For some reason, maybe the tone of the man’s voice, I said I was Jeff’s father. The doctor was pissed when he found he’d told the info to Jeff’s brother, but I told him I’d get my parents, which I promptly did. They were at an annual Charity Ball on Main Street, in that era when such things still took place in Pine Bluff.)
But the point here is, (Jeff's friend wasn't seriously injured, by the way) what I’m interested in is at least one person to correspond with. More than one would be fine. Yeh, I mean e-mail, not actual handwritten letters, although that is what I really like to write and receive. This thing of having comments made and responded to in the public way of the normal blog, no thanks, not for me. I'm an inveterate letter writer--that's about all my fragmented mind can concentrate on. Well I did finish a short story recently, after...eight years. Have a good Memorial Day.
(note added in proof: yes, I do exchange e-mail with family and friends, but except for a few good ones such as Pat's below, they are pretty much utilitarian. and on the other hand, i'll have to say some people, including me sometimes, can write blog posts that are very creative-literary-letter-like. i even fantasize on occasion that some such other people were thinking of me in some way. that's like a fantasy letter substitute for the real thing, I guess. )
