Blasts from the past

There’s something satisfying about throwing your voice out into the wind, wondering if you’ll get a response. Like launching a message in a bottle, or burying a time capsule, knowing that perhaps no one will ever find it.

Or maybe they will. This week we reported how Ray Levy found a blast from the past in the form of a letter hidden in a cigarette packet in the wall of his Ka¯ piti Coast house. He had bought the property in 2008 and found the letter while putting in a fireplace. The letter, written in 1981 by Ted Witterick, read in part: ‘‘This cigarette packet when full cost $1.08, milk is 25c a pint, bread about 60c a loaf. Petrol is $10 for 15 litres, 4 litres of oil paint $25, matches 8c a box, we changed to decimal currency in 1973 and 1 pound = $2.’’

How things change. Witterick didn’t know who, when, or if someone would find and read his letter, but wrote it anyway. Something inspired him to take a punt, on the off-chance someone would read his cheery snapshot of what life was like at a specific time.

Communication with strangers in an unlikely setting can be very satisfying. Last week Wellingtonians were geared up to toot in the Mt Victoria Tunnel en masse. It’s a similar concept. You happily honk out the call – ‘‘shave-and-a-haircut’’ – and there’s that tiny thrill when you receive the refrain (‘‘two-bits’’) from another motorist.

We can go through much of our lives trapped in a bubble. It’s refreshing and fun to pop it now and again in a chat with a person or persons unknown.

You never know what conversation you might have, however far removed in time and space.