While developing this essay I thought I’d write about how annoying people can be when they are using cell phones and how sometimes we think people are talking to themselves but they’re really not.  But we all know that people talk into little plastic devices in the most incongruous places and that the etiquette of doing so is still being defined.  So there isn’t too much more to say and I don’t even own a cell phone! 

 

Then, I thought I’d touch on how people are communicating with each other by typing into plastic boxes that send their words around the world.  But you know that and who am I to list, define and expound on that?  I’ve been on-line a relatively short time and have just developed a web-presence with this site (I hope).

 

That wasn’t going to fly so I was left with the third aspect of my proposed essay and that begins with the Henry Wadsworth Longfellow poem “The Arrow and the Song”:

 

 
 

THE ARROW AND THE SONG

 

I shot an arrow into the air,

It fell to earth, I knew not where;

For, so swiftly it flew, the sight

Could not follow it in its flight.

 

I breathed a song into the air,

It fell to earth, I knew not where;

For who has sight so keen and strong

That it can follow flight of song?

 

Long, long afterward, in an oak

I found the arrow, still unbroken;

And the song, from beginning to end,

I found again in the heart of a friend.

 

 

The poem was supposed to tie together all the elements of the essay: cell phone, Internet, and back in the 19th Century, Longfellow’s arrow and song.  All are attempts to connect with someone else, I thought, but then realized that Longfellow’s poem was more about the desire or need to connect and less about the mode of connecting.

 

He shot off that arrow and breathed that song with the blind hope or faith that it would land somewhere.  He knew not where it would land and he knew not when he would know where it landed and to what effect.  Yet, the poem suggests that he had to do it anyway and that the need to connect with “a friend” is one of the things that make us human.  That leads me to the proper subject of this essay, which is why over the years I have persisted in keeping a journal and writing the occasional poem or short story, and why I’m taking this opportunity to post my work on the Internet. 

 

Many, many years ago I decided I wanted to be a writer, because I liked books.  Later, after I studied English and world literature and taken a number of writing classes, I developed some skill at writing and learned to enjoy ordering words about to create an effect.  My ambition to be published, however, was chilled by my perception of the competition and doubts about my own ability. 

 

Still, I had this skill and my own experiences so I kept a journal off and on over the last 20 years and tried to shape some of them into stories and poems.  But the unrequited need to make a connection nagged at me, especially as I got older.  Who, I thought, will I leave this writing to?  And what does it matter that I have written things and continue to write things? What is the significance of it all? 

 

Making a connection began to grow more in importance than the method of communication.  Whether cell phone, writing, Internet, or arrow and song, the need to connect is inherent in them all.  So now I can take advantage of Internet technology to shoot my arrows and breathe my songs in the hopes that they will land somewhere, perhaps in the heart of a friend.

Ernest Cardenas, August 1999

 

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