I had occasion to communicate with a workman on behalf of a friend of mine to inquire when said workman would be back to remove his rubbish and decided a text message would be the best option.
Some considerable time ago in Victorian times the postal service in London was so quick and reliable that one could write to a maiden Aunt in the morning inviting her to afternoon tea and receive her reply in plenty of time to send your man to the market for some cucumbers for the sandwiches, assuming one had some ready money about oneself to pay for the transaction.
Alas, this is no longer the case hence the proliferation of text messages one is currently bombarded with especially if one has any contact with the younger members of the community.
Having decided to use text for my communication my wife informed me it was considered bad form to use a full stop at the end of the sentence, which caused a somewhat heated debate as to how to write a text message.
Apparently my wife had been informed by friends of hers who had been told by their young children who I believe also said it was wrong to use a question mark at the end of a sentence which I personally thought was all very peculiar as when I text I tend to use full punctuation as one might when writing a letter.
It seems to me that with punctuation one can translate the full meaning of the text unlike a communication from the young with absolutely no punctuation which can take some considerable amount of time before one can make sense of it.
Modern life is a constant minefield of dilemmas as indeed with this current post which I was unsure how to end but decided in the end to finish with the tried and tested full stop.
Algernon. [Picking up empty plate in horror.] Good heavens! Lane! Why are there no cucumber sandwiches? I ordered them specially
Lane. [Gravely.] There were no cucumbers in the market this morning, sir. I went down twice.
Algernon. No cucumbers!
Lane. No, sir. Not even for ready money.
Algernon. That will do, Lane, thank you.
Lane. Thank you, sir. [Goes out.]
About The Diary of a Country Bumpkin
I am a retired actor, although to be honest I only retired because I wasn't getting any work and the option of becoming an unemployed actor/waiter at my age was ludicrous, especially as my waiting skills are non-existent.
Having said I’m retired, I don’t think there really is such a thing as a retired actor for I am still available for work, I just don’t have an agent or any connections with regards to obtaining any worthwhile work.
I have over the years done student films when there is nothing else available, always low paid (if at all) the only incentive was always the promised copy of the finished film for your show reel which nine times out of ten always failed to materialise.
I spent many years looking after my aged mother who had dementia, hence the lack of acting work but shortly after her death I was lucky enough to run into an ex-girlfriend of many years ago and our romance blossomed once again, resulting in us getting married in 2013.
My move to the countryside inspired me to write The Diary of a Country Bumpkin which tells of my continuing dilemmas in dealing with the rigors of the countryside from the unexpectedly large number of pollens, fungal moulds and hay products waiting to attack the unsuspecting townie.
I enjoy writing, see my play Dulce Et Decorum Est Pro Patria Mori on The Wireless Theatre Company, The Plays Wot I Wrote and The Battle of Barking Creek both available on Amazon.co.uk and am very fond of classic cars so my ideal occupation would be acting in a film I had written set in the 1930s/40s, we live in hopes.
I am delighted to say that since venturing to the countryside where space is not quite the premium it is in town, I have due to the availability of two double garages acquired more classic cars to form a small collection the pride of which are a 1947 Bentley Mk VI and a 2000 Bentley Arnage.
My various blogs and websites are continually evolving and I’m sure that by following the appropriate links you will find something which will edify or amuse.
I well remember writing to my Commanding Officer to ask permission to marry, and signing off:
I am, Sir,
your obedient servant,
I dread to think what communication will be like in even 20 years time!
I have a letter written to my father when he was President Of The Wood Green Master Bakers Association apologising for a mix up with the photos where he to ended, I am, Sir, your obedient servant. Shame people don’t write letters like that nowadays.