Let's be pen pals!

Did you ever have a pen pal? Do you even remember what that is? Let's start with the first word: Pen. This was used more often before the keyboard took our fingers hostage. Pens are writing utensils that contain ink, and disperse that ink--preferably onto paper while you're writing. Now for the second word: Pal. A pal is a friend or buddy, only kind of in the Facebook sense of the word. You need not really care about a person or feel any attachment or duty to them to call them a pal.

Now. What is a pen pal? A pen pal is a person who you will probably never meet, but with whom you develop a relationship via letter writing. Pen pals were extremely popular when I was in the fifth grade and teachers would do anything to get us to practice stringing together a coherent sentence (even if it meant preying on our predisposition to think that getting mail was somehow cool. (Don't worry though. Bill collectors killed that belief really quickly.)).

So anyway, I was reminiscing the other day (call it "ruminating" if you can't resist the urge to turn it into a pathological symptom) about all of the pen pals I've had over the years. And it dawned on me that a tone was set from the very first sentence of the very first letter sent from one pen pal to the other. I mean, this is it. That sentence is your introduction. It's your chance to say either, "Hey, I'm a really cool person and my writing is fantastical," or "Hey, sorry. . . my teacher is making my do this. . . I hate the world and I suck at life." Of course there's no middle range here, but only two possible interpretations of the first sentence of the first letter.

Thus, I want to go back in time to make up for all of those shitty introductory letters I wrote to my poor pen pals. I mean, really, what was I thinking? I'm sure I tried, but without rhetorical training, those things had to have sucked. Big time.

Let us start with an example of what (I have a feeling) I actually wrote. I no longer have these letters, so I'm guessing.

Dear Sara,

Hi. My name is Allison. I am in the fifth grade. I like school. I am good at spelling and math. I like playing four-square and Barbies with my little sister. Her name is
Chrissy. She has blonde hair. I fight with her a lot.

Do you have sisters or brothers? What is your favorite color? Are you good at spelling? Do you like school?

I hope you are doing good and I can't wait to hear back from you.

Allison

Let us take just a moment to point out the errors in my ways. I hope these would be obvious, but my classmates have taught me to assume little about basic human knowledge or common sense.

1. "Hi." What a captivating introduction! I am on the edge of my seat, just dying to read more. . . . Really? Couldn't I have done better?
2. "I am good at spelling and math." Wow. . . she's gonna like me now. I've never met an unfriendly or unlikeable geek.
3. "[All that crap about my sister.]" Non-sequitor much? And who gives a shit?
4. "[All those pointless questions.]" Yeah. . . any more close-ended questions and we could call this a hybrid of cross examination and the Spanish Inquisition (as conducted by retarded low-level bureacrats of course. "Tell me what your favorite movie is or I shall pull off your fingernails!").
5. "I hope you are doing good." I just wanted to clarify that the grammatical error was intentional.

Now, what would a person do if she wanted to make a really good impression with her first letter to a pen pal? I thought I would try again and write a letter as though I really, truly wanted this person to like me.

While crossing campus this afternoon, stopping occasionally to shield my eyes from the leaves-turned-projectile-weapons-of-mass-destruction, one question plagued my mind: How does she spell her name?

You see, I've been thinking about all of the different important debates that I would like to start with someone like yourself, but I couldn't bring myself to start a letter without knowing. . . "h" or no "h." Perhaps you are more tolerant than I, but when people don't take the time to figure out whether it is "Alison" with one "l" or "Allison" with two "l"s, I get perturbed. I hardly wanted to start off on the wrong foot by
addressing a letter intended for "Sara" to "Sarah" (or vice versa).

With that said, I am going to skip any introduction of myself. I am bored by my life, as are most other people; so I shall assume you would be as well. What I would like to do is ask you about what I consider some of the more intriguing questions in life. For instance, if you knew that you were going to wake up tomorrow with severe memory loss and that you could choose to remember only one idea, what would that idea be? Why? Liberalism? Capitalism? Hedonism? Buddhism? Sadomasochism?

Or, to offer an alternative if you don't want to respond to the previous question, what would you do if you could run the country for a month? You'd be in charge of the executive, legislative, and judicial branches; checks and balances would be non-existent. What's your plan? Revamp Medicare and Medicaid? End Social Security? Attack Canada? Declare yourself eternal dictator?

I look forward to reading your thoughts, and I wish you well. (Oh, and a little tidbit of advice: Don't put white powder in the envelope when you send the return letter. The Post Office gets really mad. . .)

Al

Obviously it could use a little work, but the second letter is greatly improved from the first. And I know I wouldn't have written like that as a fifth grader; no one else would've understood it. But regardless, the example was easier to give by ignoring the obligatory stupidity that comes with youth. (By the way. . . all my peers out there. . . we're still in that obligatory stage. So let's do the world a favor and not get pen pals.)