Postcards: A Memoir

I don't write a lot of postcards. Probably less than five in my whole life. Since the invention of email (and since I never really took trips worthy of sending postcards) I see postcards as a dying art, like latin, or talking in person.

This trip has prompted me to write a few postcards (well, at least buy a few, keep them in my journal...and eventually realize it's pointless to send a Vietnam card from Italy). So far I've successfully mailed two.

I'd like to share my thoughts on the enigmatic postcard.

First, the process of postcards is too slow. No one receives a postcard in the time that would make any of the information on them relevant. For instance, I've received postcards from people who already returned and already told me about their trip...now all the info on their card is a little redundant. I have theory that all post offices have a separate room for postcards. They wait for a particularly slow day (or the second coming) and mail them all at once....that is IF the postcard even makes it out of the post office. Which brings me to my second point...

There is a lack of privacy. I write a message on the back of an eye-catching, flamboyant photo. Postcards are the Liberace of mail. You can't tell me that with the sea of bland, white mail flowing through the networks, postmen don't take a sneak peak at my trip to the Prague Castle. Now every postman knows how I miss my family and I havent done laundry in two weeks.
Awesome.

Postcards also seem kind of artificial. For example, in Germany I saw a postcard of a mountain goat standing at the edge of a cliff. Now, I didn't take the photo of the goat on the edge of the mountain, nor did I even see said goat...or any goats for that matter. And in all honesty, my experiences in Germany were not as majestic as an image of a suicidal goat on a somber edge. I just don't understand. Would you send your parents stock photos of children playing in a ball crawl just because your kid had his 5th birthday at Chuck-e-Cheese? Hopefully not.

I feel like a conversation with someone who receives a postcard from me would go like this:
Them: Wow, thanks for the postcard Nick. Did monks often cross cryptic lagoons on hollowed-out tortise shells?
Me: Well, uh, I never actually saw that. But I did buy a sweet Buddha tshirt.
Them: Oh, well...the message was nice.

And they slowly move the card from the fridge towards the garbage while I slowly feel like a loser.
I think this is why I also have a hard time finding birthday cards. No matter how funny or endearing, I didn't write it.
I came up with: "Have a great year! from Nick"...that was mine.

Postcards also seem a bit flashy. How great is your accountant friend going to feel when he reads about your Moroccan love cruise while he's filing account management reports in a cube the size of your 1st class cabin bed. That's like sending a birthday card to someone else on your birthday. It just doesn't seem right.

Now I don't hate postcards. I think my biggest problem, and the reason for this post, is that they confuse me. Have you ever written a postcard? It's hard. So much thinking goes into such a little space.
What do you write about, I only have five square inches and god help me, a thick pen! Should I talk about the photo? Unfortunately, I didn't take the photo and the caption on the back is pretty self explanitory. Should I tell them about the trip? Well, I emailed them Tuesday and not much has really happened in two days. I can't ask any questions because they would be pointless, unless they postcarded me back (which is an intriguing idea). Even if they emailed their responses they won't get the card for at least 3 weeks or so, so any questions would need to have a 3 week relevancy, in which case it might be too deep a topic to go on a postcard. I wish postcards came with an etiquette book...well, maybe just a pamphlet.

I guess overall, there is just the simple joy in receiving a postcard. No matter how distressing or perplexing the entire process may have been, it is nice to know someone thought about you.