Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Shut the Front Door ... Day 43 ... The handwriting of our generation or lack thereof.

Have you ever thought about the written word?
I'm not talking about electronically distributed generic words sent to masses of people via the most common of social networking websites. I'm talking about intimate, personal thoughts transferred from mind to paper though the flowing script of a steady hand.

If you've ever watched a history channel, seen an old document, or even read a letter in your grandparents stash of memorabilia, you've seen what I'm talking about. Pages and pages of elaborate flowing script with well thought out, deliberate words, sentences, and paragraphs.

We should look back on the past hundreds of years of grammar and sentence structure with awe. Generations of human beings who could barely live past the ripe old age of 40 somehow managed to surpass us with the patience and time it took to master the intricate form of the alphabet. Collectors pay disgusting prices to collect handwritten letters from past presidents, scholars, and common citizens of bygone eras.

Fast forward two to five generations and what do you see now?
Grown adults with handwriting skills that could be mistaken for the shaky, illiterate efforts of a four year old. Not only is the structure of modern day handwriting coming up painfully short, but take a good, long look at the content of our current generations attempts at conversation. Who is going to collect, document, and display in museums, painfully short yet, highly encrypted, messages that frequently include the questionable endearments, OMG, LOL, and FML? How will auto correct play into the way our conversations are interpreted when we can barely figure out what's being said now? Will our grandchildren's grandchildren even have fragile pieces of treasured memorabilia to look through?

Personally, I can't even remember the last time I picked up a pen and paper to compose a letter. I've become so dependent on my backspace key, spell check, and delete button, I can't even begin to write as I'm afraid of making a mistake that can't be erased. Even if I did make the attempt, my own handwriting sucks. Not that it always did. Somehow, over the years, it's gotten worse and worse to the point that my signature is little more than chicken scratch.
Maybe I should work on that....tomorrow.

Ok, I'm done ranting.

Day 43
We were the target of a little snow storm again last night.
Strange part of that storm is, I think my car was the target.
You see the picture above is my front deck (facing south).
No snow.
And then there is my car below (facing east) with 3 inches of snow on it.
Notice my daughter's car right next to mine?
No snow.
I'm confused.

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