Letters to Abigail:
My world has turned to blah. Without school I am now in the relentless pursuit of “the job,” but basically all I’m doing is bumming around Eugene tanning my pasty-white belly and going to the Student Rec Center; which I guess isn’t that bad. I’m losing weight, even though I remain fixed at 185 – I supose it’s because I’m lifting while exercising so I’m gaining muscle mass. There’s no way to deny that I’m losing the pot belly I’ve had since I was like 12, I put on an old pair of boardshorts and the fell off. I want to go home to my beloved San Francisco, I miss the cool nights, I miss the culture, I miss the music. Jo went down there this weekend, and all she could talk about was how beautiful it was and I wanted to strangle her for getting to go down there. Also, I’m getting the website going again too, it was really bad and I suddenly felt myself needing a big change.
I have been listening to David McCullough’s book on John Adams. Normally I am not a fan of the audio-tape variety of literature, this being only the second time I have ever attempted to listen to a book, I do not know why I find it so distasteful; somehow it feels vaguely trashy in a Wal-Mart kind of way. However, it was given to me as a distraction to the drive from San Francisco to Eugene and I soon found myself engrossed in the detail of a very interesting historical figure.
What struck me most is how much the author has been able to discover simply through the numerous letters that John and Abigail sent and obviously saved. No one takes the time to write letters anymore, no one saves copies of email. How will the biographers of the future know anything about the present? God knows I cannot remember the last time I wrote a real pen and paper letter.
The other thing that I find discouraging is how thoroughly intelligent these letters sound, they are not stiff and formal, but rather loose and witty like a Jane Austin novel. I had long ago assumed that no one actually wrote or spoke like a character from Pride and Prejudice, but these letters have unsettled me. They are full of romantic and charming phrases that seem to have aged very well. When was the last time you told someone in an email: I have resolved to take up horseback rides along the beach once again, though my heart pines for your glowing and warm embrace?