I think I have mentioned here that I recently joint a mail art group, also known as postal art. The best way to explain it , I guess, is pen pals on steroids. We write letters to each other, letters that are really works of art. Here are just a few of the beautiful letters and envelops I have received.
All of this discussion sparked a memory of a stuffed Valentines mailbox in third grade, and more.
It started about two weeks after school began in the fall. At recess , when I walked by the swings , he would burst out in song, "Brown Eyes, Beautiful Brown eyes, I'll never love blue eyes again." and watched me as I walked by.
In December our class drew names for secret Santa presents. He found out who had my name and traded for it.
Even in third grade he was the kind of guy who if he said trade me, you traded. He gave me a beautiful baby animals book, well exceeding the price limit set by the teacher.
In February, he bought a whole box of valentines and signed all thirty two of them Guess who. He and his accomplice divided the valentines between the two of them to speed up delivery. He didn't want to get caught stuffing my mail box, our teacher had said one Valentine each, one to everyone in the class....a rebel, my James Dean.
During all this time we never spoke more than 10 words maybe, he never tried to sit by me at lunch, just the songs at recess, singing and swinging.
Then came the day he changed the words of the song. "Blue eyes, Beautiful blue eyes, I'll NEVER love BROWN eyes again."
I had just received a Dear Jane singing telegram.
I waited at the classroom door for him to come in after recess. I asked him why, he said, I don't date girls with glasses. I had them one day, my glasses, so that was the end of that.
I think it was May.