“Let your fingers do the walking…”

“…through the Yellow Pages…” Remember that jingle? I thought of it the other day when I was drafting something for work. But in my case, it's "let my fingers do the writing." It seems I am unable to draft a piece of writing using pen and paper. My brain doesn’t work as well as it does when I apply my fingertips to a keyboard in front of a computer screen.

In addition to shift in the process of writing, my handwriting has gone downhill over the years. I could blame it on the fact that I type more than I write, and I type more quickly than I can write. My theory only goes so far, as my husband is also on the computer all day, and he has nice handwriting.

I took Typing from Mrs. LaVigne at Framingham North High on an electric typewriter. I used a typewriter in high school and in college, but only for final drafts. I wrote drafts by hand. Although Dartmouth College had one of the most innovative and sophisticated computer centers in the country, I still used my Smith Corona. I dabbled on the Mac, but would still think “This is neat, now where’s my typewriter.”

One night during winter finals in senior year (1986), I was happily typing away at a paper, and the power went out. Cries of frustration resonated through the dorm. Mine might have been a little quieter, as I at least still had what I had written. I could touch it. Some students didn’t save their computer files, and lost pages and pages of final exam papers. I was somewhat relieved I hadn’t fallen prey to the beginnings of the computer craze. I certainly wasn’t going to start now.

Fast forward to business school at Babson College in 1990, I owned a PC with WordPerfect and Excel. I even taught myself enough in WordPerfect to launch a newsletter for the business school students. I wrote papers, created graphs and charts for my finance class. I used the VAX email system at school to communicate to other students and some professors. This is when I found out that I could get my thoughts down a lot faster using bits and bytes than a #2 pencil.

It is now 2010. Next year, I will be celebrating my 25th college reunion. I look back at my evolving appreciation for computers and how it can improve my productivity. And boy oh boy, if I had had a little bit of financial savvy, I would have invested in Apple and Microsoft.

When using a computer to write, I can remove entire thoughts without seeing a mess on the page, find synonyms, embed graphics and charts, change fonts. The draft-to-final version takes less time. And I know I don’t use half of what I could be using. I write really fun letters to Abby at Camp Tel Noar, which might include some posts on her Facebook page, photos of us or her cousins in Atlanta and different fonts and colors to spice it up. We have a color printer, so she gets some good material at rest hour.

The other day, Abby and I were playing school. She was the teacher. She is always the teacher. Abby or Miss Jennings, as she called herself, asked me to write a paragraph about my family. She gave me a piece of white lined paper and a pencil. I looked at her. She asked me what was wrong. I shook off my slight panic and said it was nothing. I picked up the pencil and started to write. I wrote and wrote and wrote. I felt liberated!

After “Miss Jennings” corrected my paper, she returned it with a big smiley sticker. She said, “The smiley is because the story is really good. But your handwriting is awful.”

Video killed the radio star. And the word processor killed my penmanship.

Note: This blog post was drafted using Microsoft Word. No pencils or erasers were sharpened or harmed.

Cheerio but be back soon

Abby has been living at Camp Tel Noar for the past seven weeks. We have seen her twice. Else, our primary means of communications has been through letters.

As a camper, you write a letter because it is required. You write big, sometimes with markers and fill a small page. As a parent in the 21st century, I type my letters (mainly because my handwriting is horrid), and add photos. I want it to be fun and something she looks forward to receiving. I include the basics of who’s doing what, but I have learned not to ask too many questions because they don’t get answered. Sometimes I send a check list, which she can respond to and send back. Instead of saying, “I miss you,” I might write something like, “I know you’re having a great time” or “I hope you’re trying new things.” Also, including photos of her cousins or her brother “in case she forgot what he looked like,” lets her know she can still have a little part of home while she’s away.

One recent letter from Abby was particularly well written and very funny. This is the unedited version:

Hey,

Today, we had a day trip to York Beach. There, they had an amusement park, a zoo a beach, and a boardwalk. It was in York Maine. The waves were huge. The water ice cold. I bought a chocolate covered banana and maple fudge all for $6. I had so much fun. I miss you. I hope your having a fun summer. Make it last.

Xoxo
Abby

As a camper years ago, the summer flew, and I was sad to leave. I didn’t want to leave my friends and a place on a beautiful lake where I was active nearly 24x7 doing what I loved… sports, sports and more sports. I sprinkled drama, boating and other activities of course, but I loved the community and camaraderie of camp.
Sure enough, I received a letter from Abby the other day stating, “I am so sad to leave camp.” It is comforting to know she loves camp and is having the time of her life. At the same time, she didn’t say, “I don’t want to come home,” which makes me feel good. She can love to be in two places.

Unlike my camper days, Abby isn’t able to call home (unless something is really wrong). On the other hand, years ago, there wasn’t a great Web site called Bunk1.com which the camp uses to post photos and newsletters, to keep the parents informed of the goings-on. It’s fun to scan through the photos and suddenly see her beautiful smiley self appear. Sometimes she is in her Shabbat finest; sometimes she is dressed up for some sort of performance or camp activity.

With all of this, Ari has been loving life as an only child. He attends the Ashland Recreation Department day camp and has been working very hard on his baseball skills. He’s been heavy into his bird watching, and we’re having a lot of fun with him.

So the question remains, do I miss Abby? Hmm. Let’s review the pros and cons of her being away:

Pros: The house stays neat. There is no arguing between children. It is easier to remember to pick up one child from camp. It’s easier to handle just one child, leaving time for fun things for the adults. It is nice to spend time with my youngest child. When he is at a friend’s house or grandparent’s house, the parents get time alone. It is great practice for her and us when she goes to college, provided she goes to college and lives on campus.

Cons: She’s not here to talk with, go shopping with, argue with, clean up after, tell to stop bickering with her brother, tell to read. I can’t pick up a phone to say hi when I’m at work. I can’t drive her to her friend’s house. I can’t watch her new dance moves, or hear her laughter and beautiful voice. I can’t help her make a decision, or be there if she’s sad, or celebrate a success.

There might be just as many pros as cons but the value of the cons outweighs the everyday challenges of life with two kids. And should a parent really evaluate this decision so logically? Admittedly, when Abby first left, it didn’t quite sink in. We saw her only 10 days later when she sang the National Anthem at the Boston Lobsters, and then on Visiting Day at the 3 ½-week mark. We were busy. And although I would think about her, particularly when I’d pass by her very neat room, I didn’t pine away.

But as the saying goes, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” Or “You appreciate something when you don’t have it.” I could go on and on with clichés, but the bottom line is she’s my little girl, and I love her. I know I’m doing right by her to send her to camp, but I miss having her around. It’s as simple as that.

Next year, Abby will likely return to her beloved Tel Noar, and her younger brother might be joining her for the second half of the summer. Two kids away at the same time. I had better start preparing myself now. Actually, before that, I need to prepare my washer and dryer for the onslaught of camp clothes.