Loving the Luddite in Me

When I found out that a fun fellow Taurus-girl’s birthday was vastly approaching my mind went, naturally, to note cards. Not just any variety of note cards, but personalized note cards, a writeable calling card, if you will, something harkening to a day—a century, perhaps—of old. It took a few beats before it occurred to me that not everyone was raised to hold fine stationary in such celebratory regard. And in this electronic age, paper-lovers like myself are a vastly dying breed.

My mother, in so many ways, is very “old school”. (I say this with the greatest affection.) She was a true stickler for monitoring clothing’s seasonal appropriateness, penmanship, and thank you notes. All gifts had to be accompanied by a timely thank you note, written in a neat and attractive manner that would make Emily Post envious.

I don’t know my Taurus friend well enough to understand her thank-you-note-sending inclinations, but I do not-so-fondly recall the time I opened my first embossed stationary, one Christmas morning. The cards were a light pink, and my name was written in a sariffed, brighter hue. When I think about these cards now, I wish they were in front of me – I would send them to everyone I know. However, at the time, I wished they were the cool, new version of Donkey Kong. I was ten years old!

One might say that I inherited my affinity for note cards from my mother, but now that I’m nearly the exact age she was when she ordered, purchased, and placed them wrapped under the Christmas tree, I’m sure my lasting fondness has little to do with heredity. Nurturing, yes. Genetics, no.

In this day and (techno-crazy) age, you’re either a luddite, or you’re not. It’s a term that’s generally used to describe folks like me who use their computer for little more than a word processor, and break into a sweat at the thought of installing their own software. If you still keep a paper calendar, resist owning a Blackberry, and feel overwhelmed by Facebook – you’re a modern-day luddite.

The word luddite originated in the early 1800’s by a bunch of British revolutionaries who went around smashing up machinery for fear that they’d make laborers obsolete. They were called “luddites” after Ned Ludd, a man who’d made his name in the late 1700’s, busting up anything electronic (but later was committed to an insane asylum).

As a writer I’m not the least bit worried about becoming obsolete. But it does make one think about the investments we all make in technology…and things in general. We all have a computer (or two, or five) that we refer to like pets with personalities (“I once had an IBM that was build like a tank…great computer!”). Some even sit in storage, never to see daylight until our ancestors dust them off and stare in awe. There’s much controversy over the future of paper, and its electronic replacement (yes, there is such a thing as electronic paper!). For some generations the idea of putting pen to pad will be as far reaching as 8 tracks and joysticks. For others, they’ll just love the primitive process of scratching words into parchment, sealing an envelop manually, and awaiting with anticipation and excitement the several days it takes for someone to unwrap your thoughts – from their own mailbox.

An old friend greeted me recently with these fantastic little note cards. I thought it an interestingly appropriate choice, and delighted in recognizing that there’s nothing like old friends to remind you of who you really are.

It could be that my name’s “Liza”, and I suffer from name-imprint envy, but if I see something with one of my friend’s names on it, I’m beyond tempted to buy it. I recently gave my friend Nicole some really pretty writing paper with her name at the top. (And no, she’s not the fun Taurus I told you about – she a fun Aries!)

Maybe it’s somehow actually more fun if stationary is a novelty. I know, for me, the old fashioned way will never go out of style.