The writing is on the wall, perhaps, but it certainly isn't on paper, addressed, stamped (at great expense) and delivered. Other writers have already predicted the demise of the LETTERS OF - collections of letters by famous people, Leonard Bernstein recently among them. A collection of Twitters will not make for much good reading or illuminating insights. Besides, they'll have to be translated, IMHO. Have you noticed that in current fiction, new writers often include other modes and genres of writing in their finished product? We are given, often with a change of font, recipes and diary notes and letters instead of straight narrative. The letters, however, are more like Tweets than real missives. A missive is defined in my computer dictionary as "a letter, esp. a long or official one." (I knew that.) Note the key word, long. I'm not sure whether the writer is lazy and just filling in blanks with easy, even found, writing, or trying to cater to a reader who is also lazy and prefers thought in small doses. And then there are graphic novels. I used to wonder when I was younger why newspapers carried all that dense print with news I didn't read. All that mattered to me were the funny pages. Mind you, I was six years old. Now I can't read a comic or graphic novel. All those balloons and interruptions and illustrations do not make for rapid reading. I don't want to get into that now. I am still considering the death of the letter. There's some good news about electronic communication and you are enjoying it right now. I might be writing this longhand or some other way, but you wouldn't be reading it without the net. My cobweb line has caught you. And look, Ma, no stamps!

I'm having a party today, for the family. I am the kin keeper. Every family should have one but there should be a retirement age for the job as there is for other, paying ones. After yesterday's downer re mail I am not in the mood. Why am I doing this? Someone asked me a few weeks ago (I told you) why I write a blog. Hey, why have a party? I'm already tired and I haven't begun my work. Well, yes, I have, I dragged all the food home. Now I have to prepare it and serve it and hope they eat it so I won't have too many leftovers. It's not like it was. My husband and I used to have regular pool parties for 75 or more people, one cast and crew party at a time, a barbecue for all, at our own expense, no subsidy from the theatre. Why? I think we were drunk with our own good will and grand-standing for each other. That had to be the reason. No one ever brought anything to help. I suppose they thought it was the theatre's largesse. And after Bill died, no one remembered my name. See? I've never dwelled on that. Is it tiredness or is it age? Anyway, I am not driven by anything now, just an obligation I must fulfill since no one else is doing it. I may have to erase this blog soon, but not today. Let me rant. No one is listening.