Dear Mr. Gable,

I don’t claim to be a letter writer. I’ve tried, but the many steps involved in getting a thought onto a piece of paper and into a mailbox means most letters end up abandoned along the way.

First, you have to write the letter, find an envelope, find a stamp, and find the address. And you have to put it someplace where you will remember to take it to the mailbox (like in my purse) and THEN remember to take it out of that place (my purse) and actually put it in a mailbox.

There have been a few times when I’ve managed to complete the process. I think.

Like the time I got my first census form and relished in the grownup-ness of filling in the boxes and putting it into the preprinted return envelope. I became quite indignant when they actually LOST my form—after I had gone to extensive trouble to fill it out, put it in the envelope, put it on the dashboard of my car because everyone knows that if the really important mail is sitting right in front of you when you drive by a mailbox, you will pull right over and mail it. And I made my displeasure clear to the nice census taker who had the NERVE to call me months later to ask for my data. And the very next week I was looking for something in my car and I reached into the junk-in-the-trunk box

and

there

was

the

envelope.

Shoved in with a pile of magazines and a school fundraiser catalog, still waiting to be dropped in the mailbox. Maybe that isn’t the right example.

There is the time my mom sent me off to camp with a stack of note cards—the envelopes preaddressed AND stamped. I know she hoped I would write to her each day, and I did, sort of. Once.

Dear Mom, I lost an earring in the lake. Please bring another to the bus,

Love, Lib

I handed her the note when I got off that bus, and I guess she knew she wouldn’t be getting any more letters from me because she has kept it to this day.

There was also the time in fifth grade when my best friend Molly convinced me to help her with a letter writing campaign to get the Monkees albums rereleased so she could meet and marry Davy Jones. And instead of getting lots of people to write the letters, we wrote them ourselves, trying to change our handwriting and making up fake names and addresses.

And before I confess to a felony, I’m going to say that it doesn’t count anyway because Molly gave me a sample letter and all I did was copy it over and over, and over, and over. Plus I didn’t mail them because Molly said her dad would do that, which is good because it means an adult actually committed the felony so I’m not responsible for mail fraud, or the Monkees MTV tour. And if I’m wrong, and the statute of limitations hasn’t run out on whatever fraud we were trying to perpetrate, if this goes to court, I’m taking the fifth. They’ll never be able to prove it was me. And what were my parents thinking, letting me hang around with CRIMINALS?

Do you see a pattern here? I have good intentions, but they usually fizzle. But I recently decided to become a letter writer anyway-- because I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore.

Specifically, I decided to start writing to my elected officials so they know how I expect them to vote on the upcoming all important bills. Politicians are like children—you have to TELL them how you expect them to behave, or be prepared for the inevitable “how was I supposed to know I wasn’t supposed to put the cat in the dryer! You never told me that! It’s not my fault!” I also decided to tell the money behind the network news that I don’t appreciate their biased opinions passed off as journalism.

Because I’m such a stellar letter writer, as we’ve learned from previous examples, I began by doing some research. Research which involved googling to find something pre-written to save some of the pain of the process, because as much as I agonize over finding a stamp, it is nothing compared to the angst of finding that exact right word which is always just out of reach. So I type in “Sample Boycott letter” and of course, the top results are letters to boycott sponsors of Fox news, because the far left and right fringes are full of people who are doers and they’re way ahead of everyone else when it comes to letter writing campaigns. And I know this from experience because my 4th, 5th and 6th grade teacher marched with Cesar Chavez and our class actively boycotted Gallo Wine and the Teamsters union to protest the treatment of migrant workers. I know my grass roots organizing, and there are a lot of people like me who are too disorganized to take action unless it’s made really really easy.

And I came across a website which I’m not going to name because I don’t want to give it even one little boost in Google’s rankings, but it is brilliant. And simple. It’s just a website with a web form for you to fill in your name, address and email and they will send it to all the sponsors of the offending program for you. On your behalf. All of them. No mailboxes necessary. Click to biggify the screen shot.

And if I didn’t find this so creepy, I’d be tripping over myself trying to put something similar together. Creepy? What could possibly be creepy about an auto boycott letter writing organization? Well, first of all, not only is it so easy it requires very little thought or foresight to join a big angry email mob, but the boycott-er doesn’t even have to know who they’re threatening. It’s always easier to bully when you don’t see the effects. And what happens in the future? By filling out this form how do you know that letters, written on your behalf, won’t be sent to other organizations, to promote causes you don’t even agree with? You’ve just given an anonymous bully permission to use you as a virtual battering ram and it’s too late to change your mind.

And now I’m kinda freaked out and have totally lost track of where I was going with this. So, even though people like me could really use an auto boycott letter writing organization, I won’t be building one tonight. And I still haven’t found a sample letter, but I do know a couple of prolific letter writers (hi Mom, hi Dad!) who have agreed to help me draft some. And once we get some written, I’ll post them here for other postal-ly challenged individuals. Which I think was supposed to be my point all along.