Write Letters. It's The Future.

It's fair to say that we don't write letters like we used to. I know I don't. If I cast my memory back, I wrote a lot of letters when I was courting the better half, but then that was when internet was in its infancy and not everyone had the internet at home.

Aside from thank you letters, I don't "write" letters at all. I might type one and print it out, but you won't catch me sitting with a ball point pen and a pad of paper any time soon.

So it is with great joy that I am able to regale you a story I was told by a friend of my wife, who is a head teacher somewhere in Oxford. She was describing how one of her staff had been going through a book with her class, "Kasper, Prince Of Cats", by Michael Morpurgo.

From what I've heard, the cat is a statuette, placed at a table in the Savoy Hotel to warn off bad luck. The story is about a bell-boy and his relationship with a real-life black cat at the hotel, and the adventures they undergo.

So taken by this book were the class, that they wrote to the hotel asking if they could come and see the cat that inspired the story.

The hotel then wrote back and said, sorry, that part of the hotel is currently undergoing refurbishment. But we can arrange for you to see it at our club next door.

Excellent news, the teacher thought. Then came the follow up, we have been in touch with the author, and he would be happy to talk to the class via video-conference! This is unbelievable, thought the teacher.

Shortly before the trip, the hotel rang again. Sorry, they said, Michael Morpurgo said that he won't be able to do the videoconference now, because he has decided to come in person! Cue jaws on floor.

So the day came, and the children got to meet the cat, the hotel laid on cat shaped biscuits and squash, and they sat in revered silence as Michael Morpurgo talked to them about the book they loved so much.

After their time was up (they had an appointment at St Paul's to go to), the headteacher asked the hotel organiser why they had gone to such great lengths for one morning's work.

"Because you wrote letters to us. No one writes letters any more, so it stood out."

And there you have it. They get dozens of emails asking for facilities, but no one writes any more. The kids did more than just ask for something, they showed how much they wanted it, and that's something you can't do in Times New Roman. The power of the letter should not be forgotten.

Slightly Later Than Planned #1

#1 - I don't like Mondays - Boomtown Rats

Original Release Year - 1979 (me aged 3)

Picture the scene. A child receives a brand new toy. But not just any toy. This is a record player. It's a Fisher Price record player, but it plays records nonetheless. Grown up records too.

The modern equivalent would probably be me buying my daughter an Early Learning Centre MP3 player, I'm sure there is such a thing, so my parents clearly recognised the role that music would play in my life when they bought me that record player. And judging by my favourite song of all time, they seem to have crafted it as well; I can only assume that they bought the record in the first place.

I'm guessing most three year olds have a favourite song that is played ad infinitum in the car or at home. High School Musical probably. It was only when I was about 15 that I discovered that my favourite song was all about a high school shooting spree in January 1979. Brenda Ann Spencer just took potshots out of her bedroom window at the school opposite because she didn't like Mondays. Naturally I don't recall any of this, but the internet is a wonderful thing, and you can read about the inspiration to the song here.

All I remember is having this record on continually at bedtime. Maybe it's the lack of percussion that makes this track stand out from most, after all this was an era of punk fighting with disco, where drums made all the difference. And here was a number one single that had none.

It's been slightly peculiar nosing through all these old favourites of mine. What surprised me a little was that only one track is from the last decade. Does this mean I have grown weary of music, or that music has just grown weary?