Loading ...
Being Forward
I’m not a forward person. I’m not talking about being pushy or forthright. I’m talking about forward with a capital “F.” You know, those people who love to send emails with “Fw:” in the subject line. There’s nothing wrong with sharing a laugh or a sentimental story—I’m a writer after all, so I love stories and jokes, but I never get really excited when I see those two letters “Fw” in my email box.
I think forwards epitomize the extremes that the digital age has driven us to as we communicate. We don’t (or won’t) take time to walk around the cubicle corner and actually look at a person when we tell a joke. We don’t write a short note along the lines of “Hey, thought you’d love this….” at the top of the email either.
We want to share the story that made us LOL (laugh out loud), the poem that made us cry, and the urgent recall notices/virus alerts, so we click “select all” and share our story or joke with everyone in our address book. And those people either delete it on sight or open it and then send it on. The cycle goes on, each person reading and reacting to the message alone. I heard this the other day: “We have connections with a large number of people today, but our connections are usually very thin.” Judging by the number of Forward emails that hit my inbox, I’d have to agree.
Just this once I’m going to be a Forward person. Today is Forward Amnesty Day. Share your favorite email that’s been sent to you. Wait! Two rules. First, no forwards. You must cut and paste. Second, don’t post something that’s 17 inches long—edit. Brevity is the soul of wit and all that. And tell us why you want to share it.
I’ll go first. This one made me LOL. I think there’s a novel in there somewhere.
The World’s Shortest Fairy Tale
Once upon a time, a girl asked a guy, “Will you marry me?” The guy said “No” and the girl lived happily ever after and went shopping, drank martinis, always had a clean house, never had to cook, stayed skinny, and was never farted on.”
The End
