Do you remember it?
Like, you could tell things were...probably? Being communicated, but had no idea what.
And really, as long as you connected, it would be okay.
What did you do with all those CDs? Those AOL CDs that arrived, bundled, mailed, stuffed into magazines.
They might be the single greatest contributor to the microplastic epidemic. (We’ll never know.)
Before Gmail and spam folders... There was a single phrase that could make your entire day:
“You’ve got mail.”
It was like something out of the distal side astral plane was acknowledging you.
Cared enough about you.
To write you a letter.
The mystery was intense!
Who from?
What’s inside?!
Maybe...
Holidays.
Birthdays.
Graduations and special occasions.
High chances of getting that big square card wrapped in a colorful paper or a long, skinny envelope.
Hopefully filled with the last bit of whatever you needed to buy that thing you wanted more than anything else.
My Grandmother lived in D.C., about 8 hours away, so we didn’t see her that often, but I always looked forward to her letters. Every letter would be addressed the same.
“To Master Jonathan”
I remember when I was old enough for the novelty of the honorific to register.
“Master”
...?
Master of what?
I live under more rules than everyone else!
This regime makes me go to church, go to bed before I want to, and gets mad when I don’t do my homework!
My mom had explained it to me later and it kinda made sense.
An unintentional jack of all trades.
Because really?
I was the Master of none.
Sometimes, even here in 2025, I still like to write letters once in a while.
I keep a book of stamps in my desk drawer.
Next to a few of those Sharpie gel pens. (Iykyk)
Because even though my return address isn’t on the distal side of the astral plane…
You still want to let people know that you care.
-KC
I was so excited when we could change the default “you got mail” to one of celebrity voice. I think I used Mick Jagger for awhile.