As you can imagine, my mother's digital deficiency makes for amusement at e-mail time. Last month after reading my Valentine's Day blog entry she sent me an encouraging note, the new-fashioned way. (It took some years but she’s finally realized that the phone is not the best way to reach me. Now Mom's feeding me a steady diet of three to five e-mails a day.) As usual she typed her message fast and furiously and flung it on its way. Shoot first, check spelling later -- that's just how the lady gets her business done.
Here's to beautiful hearts filled with love, good feelings and lots of tasty things to eat. You're my girl!
Happy Valentine's Day Sweetie,
Nothing tastes better than reading your words.
Calorie free, but feels you up!
You made my day!
I Love you,
Yeah, fourth line from the bottom. You read that right. As sweet as it is fantastically hilarious.
But, as they say, there is no such thing as comedy without victims. Enter: alswrite(at)wrongemail.com.
In attempting to send me the following message – and, apparently, numerous others in the past few weeks – my mother had left a ‘w’ out of my address (she blames the keyboard) and hurriedly hit "Send" without checking the “To” line first.
Hi Sweetie, Hope you got your exercise and rest yesterday. Sounds like they put you thru the mill at work.
Wanted to tell you of some fabulous healthy muffins I found at Trader Joe’s. They are called "Moral Fiber." Very healthy. Flavor is orange/cranberry. No sugar (just white grape juice). Very high fiber, low fat. Cut in half toasted with a little light cream cheese. They are delicious!! I'm hooked. Love, Mom
The message did eventually reach me, forwarded along with this note from the unintended recipient:
Subject: great muffins
You know, this is getting really annoying. I'm being nice by telling you that you're emailing the wrong person because I don't want you to think your emails have gotten to your daughter. But it's really starting to get on my nerves.
Honestly, it was kinder than I might have been. I’m sure that after five or six or a dozen misfires this innocent bystander was at his or her wit’s end.
My mother didn’t see it that way.
“Where's his sense of humor?" She was indignant on the phone. (This incident had warranted a call.) "'All's right' my ass. I don’t think all’s right in this guy’s life. I have this little fantasy…”
My ears tensed at the tone of voice that puts the rest of our family on Lucy Ricardo alert.
“I think he’s this lonely, unhappy young man, and all he really needs is for someone to be his Mommy. Maybe I can give him advice and stuff; be his pen pal, his surrogate Mom.”
“LEAVE HIM ALONE,” I warned, bracing for the sort of misunderstanding that involves a 57-year-old Jewish mother and a restraining order.
But I didn’t hear from her the rest of the day and figured the matter was at rest – until I received another forwarded message, originally sent that morning from my mother to alswrite(at)wrongemail.com:
Sorry again for the mistaken identity.
But you might as well try the muffins.
Maybe it'll put you in a better mood!!!