From the Desk Of . . .

A few months back I placed an order for some professionally-produced stationery featuring my name and contact information lithographed on fine paper.  Not that people use paper anymore, or even expect it, but I'm finding that many editors are surprised to receive a handwritten note.  I'm still one of those old-school dropouts who puts pen to paper and mails his thoughts to people in high places.  Instead of creating an e-mail trail . . . I'm still producing a paper trail.

Naturally, many people have reason to be concerned about their trail:  angry emails whipped out at work in frustration at the boss; facebook entries and scathing cell phone photos taken in seedy nightclubs; suggestive tweets that end up at work instead of disintegrating into cyberspace.

Paper, however, offers a different kind of permanence.  But the way things stand today, I'm not sure paper has as much staying power as digital information.  Most people toss paper into the trash . . . whereas emails linger forever on someone's server.

But in the interest of fair play, I thought I'd share a few of my recent letters just in case people are wondering what a guy like me writes to people out there.  If I'm not sending emails, what, exactly, am I writing? 

Take a look at these babies.  Who wouldn't slip these in their permanent files?

(To radio host and personnel)
Dear Friends,
Enclosed please find complimentary copies of my books, Your Beautiful Wedding on Any Budget and Before You Say "I Do".  Thanks for having me on the show.  Hope these prizes can help someone create a lasting marriage.
All the best,
Todd Outcalt

(To editor at a literary magazine)
Dear ----,
Thanks for inviting me to submit some poetry.  Hope you will find something here to appreciate. I would be honored to see my work in your pages.
Sincerely,
Todd Outcalt

(To wife, note taped to fridge)
Becky,
Tonight is made for love (or at least an ice cream sundae), and we are out of bananas.  You wanna pick some, or shall I?  Give me a call.  You got my number, sugar.
XXOO
T

(To son, note taped to truck windshield)
Logan,
Happy birthday!
Love, Dad

(To wife, note left on bed pillow beside pound of chocolate and rose petal)
Sweet cheeks,
Is it my imagination, or have you been lookin' very hot of late?  Eat the chocolate.  We'll meet later and discuss a proposition that could be mutually beneficial to us both.  Rendezvous at 0-900? 
Sugar Daddy