Last week I was considering sharing a few tidbits from my 7th grade diary today on Anything Can Happen Sunday. But then I found something that I think might be even more fun.

Back before God bestowed upon the world His greatest miracle, texting, a need for somewhat surreptitious communication still existed. This was especially true among adolescents, much as it is today. How would you know the lunch plans of a friend sitting halfway across the classroom? What if you’d heard some juicy gossip? Should you have been expected to wait until after class to share it? Please! We might have grown up in the technological dark ages, but we weren’t savages!

Text Message Fossils

How did we communicate during this time? We wrote notes. A lot of notes. On paper. With pencils. If you think that is quaint or old-fashioned, then the way these ancestors of text messages were delivered was positively prehistoric. Notes were passed, from one kid to another, until they reached the intended recipient.

You may be asking yourself what would happen if someone chose not to participate in the delivery chain? Or what if someone in the chain took it upon him or herself to read your private correspondence?

Hi-Tech Security

All I can tell you is that there was never any question about whether or not to keep the note moving. Our ability to take advantage of any momentary distraction on the teacher’s part in order to complete a hand off was almost instinctive. It’s just what people did in those days. Keeping others from reading a private correspondence was accomplished either with intricate note folding techniques or other such advanced methods.

And just what was in those notes that required such elaborate security? Let’s find out:

AH
I’m writing you a note instead. I have a problem, everyone hates me. It’s like today people were hitting me with everything on purpose. They wanted to hit me. Maybe something is the matter with me. It’s happened ever since I started going around with Jeff. Maybe it’s because I act different or what? I really like him a lot. And believe me I never want anything to happen. And if people don’t like me just cause of that then I guess the only friend I’ll have is Jeff.
SO
PS: Thank you
PSS: w/b
PSSS: When you write me a note write why you feel that way and everything.

*****

SB,
Why are you mad at SO? What did she do?
w/b

She’s just a b____ (fill in the blanks)! She’s always either screaming, crying or acting like a b____ (fill in the blanks). Yesterday, BL said, “Come here SO.” Then he said why do you always scream? And she said, “How else am I supposed to show that I’m happy? Thrills! I’m just sick of her!
SB w/b

She isn’t a bitch, just a little hyper sometimes. I swear you guys (TS, JM, etc) are always mad at someone for something. I’m not thrilled with CD right now, but I don’t go around saying things about her and telling people to hate her. Don’t get mad about this, but if you were a girl you’d be more of a bitch than she is. It’s usually the chicks who say things about people that are called bitches. I didn’t mean for this note to get you mad if it did. But it’s true and that’s how I feel.
AH w/b

Well if that’s the way you feel I don’t think I want to be your friend anymore.
SB

It’s interesting to note that SB would periodically flash his twigs and berries at the girls during phys ed. So obviously he was extremely mature and totally qualified to sit in judgment of others. Fast-forward a few decades and he and I discovered through the magic of Facebook that we lived only a few miles apart, so we met at a local pub to drink beer and reminisce.

After he stepped away to visit the facilities, my phone alerted me that I had a new message. It was from SB … in the restroom. I guess some things just never change.