Here I am. Signed, sealed, delivered. I'm yours.

Two days ago my friend was telling me about his trouble with a hacked Facebook account. In a message he posted on his profile before deactivating, he encouraged his friends to contact him in other ways and even stated the possibility of going "old school" and writing an actual letter. Since he mentioned it, I've been thinking about the lost art of letter writing. E-mails not included.

Like most people, I have always enjoyed getting what so many of us now call snail mail. Letters delivered by post that arrive in that box at the end of the driveway (apartment lobby, free-standing box on a property) bring with them a sense of excitement. Nowadays it seems that the only things that arrive that way are bills and junk that gets thrown into the trash. And unfortunately most event invitations have been transformed into Facebook events or e-vites. The day I see a wedding invitation in my inbox I think I'll cry. So why is it that people have stopped communicating almost completely through such a time-honored means?

With so many things, there is the need for instant gratification. When I worked at a desk job, I almost never even needed to pick up the phone. Inter-office communicating was so fast through e-mail that sometimes it was just easier to avoid actually speaking to a person. I wonder if students in elementary school are still taught the process of actually handwriting or typing a physical letter that requires a stamp to be delivered. I remember pen pal programs with other schools. The teachers would collect all the letters from one class and send them off. A few weeks later, we would all receive a response. Do kids have e-mail pen pals now? How uneventful. We were also taught how to write business letters. Kids would pick a product or a company and draft a letter of complaint or congrats to be sent to a place like Nabisco or Proctor and Gamble. Usually the answer came in some form of coupon, maybe for things like dish soap, things a fifth grader didn't need. But still, the idea of waiting for that return letter in the mailbox made it so much more exciting.

I miss letters. I miss getting real mail so much so that a few years ago when I was part of a fan network for a group that shall remain nameless (no, not Jonas Brothers), someone organized a pen pal system, and I exchanged addresses with fellow fans. The object was to physically mail letters and receive ones in return, simple. It was fun to get to know someone that I had something in common with through what is now considered an archaic form of communication. Writing the perfect letter takes skill and patience. There's no unsend option, and there's no retract a message form. Maybe that's the problem for people. Once it's out there, the process is completely irreversible. No backspace, no delete, no immediate apology. You've said it. It's done.

Today, I maintain the fact that the actual letter appearing in someone's pile of mail is far more effective than a quickly typed message. After a poor flying experience with Southwest Airlines, my brother and I both wrote complaint letters. With my apparent skill, I received a phone call and $400 in flight vouchers. Recently, I crafted a letter to Cunard Cruiselines following my parents' disappointing trip. They were given $1000 in on board credit. I promise you, it is not the same when you simply send off an e-mail.

In the drawer of my desk, I still have a letter my friend Ari sent to me (on 'N Sync stationery) back in high school. Even though we saw each other almost every day and spent that summer officially stuck in her house or mine, the random letter made me smile. Guaranteed, if it had been sent in any other way, I wouldn't still have it, and it wouldn't have meant as much.

All this being said, I would love to start the letter writing process and find some sort of pen pal somewhere. As long as no one sends me chain letters. I always hated those things...

"Ooo-eee, babe, you set my soul on fire. Now I know you're my heart's only desire."