A couple years ago, while friend Charita and I were wandering around the city, I bought a book that was a collection of love letters written by Chicago newspaper columnist Mike Royko to his wife.
The book came up weeks later while the two of us made brunch at her place. I relayed what I had read in the letters (not much), and then we started discussing how no one actually writes — physically putting pen to paper — anymore.
“Technology is ruining romance,” she told me. That’s when we vowed to write more letters ourselves.
I don’t think either of us ever followed through with that. So, for Charita, I’m going to now. I’ve bought some stationary and I’m going to start putting my neat handwriting to use. And, because I also still haven’t done this yet either, I’m finally going to finish that Mike Royko book.