This is the perfect blogpost for tumblr. That site still confuses and irritates me, but I’ve been spending more time there and eventually I’ll understand how to better create tumblr content.
But…this: what I’m about to write…it’s not a full blogpost. It’s an unfinished thought. It’s the beginning of a story and the promise of more to come. Perfect for microblogging.
Though I don’t post something here everyday, I do try to polish my work before I throw it up here. As you know, I am particularly fond of whimsy and when I employ a bit of it, I get the best response. I’ve somehow found and attracted a tribe of bloggers whose humour I appreciate and who *get* me. Not sure how it happened all of a sudden, but I’m very appreciative.
Enough introduction…on to the story I came here for.
The other day, I received a package in the mail with a book in it. Because of our work, my wife and I get quite a bit of unsolicited material. Brochures, books, and a wide variety of samples arrive by post and it seems there’s always something that needs to be assessed.
But this package was somehow different. For one thing, the letter accompanying the book was hand-typed. Haven’t seen that in a while. Secondly, the only contact information was an address. A street address.
No telephone. No fax. Nothing.
Most intriguing of all? No website. No email address.
Weird, eh? That’s what I thought.
Like something out of a Paul Auster novel.
Would you have ignored it? Well, you’re better at ignoring your curiosity than I am.
Several days later, I wrote a polite letter asking a few questions. Still curious what this was all about (the book sitting ominously on my desk), his letter arrived and I was even more perplexed.
Soon enough, a new letter arrived.
It turns out he didn’t include any web-related contact information, because he doesn’t use the internet. Not at all.
The plot thickens, eh? More on this when I have more to report.