Readers': Going Postal

Sometimes I wonder if the post people think that I am crazy.

I wouldn't mind if they did. I mean, it is a little odd to be sending and receiving so much personal mail in these days of email and texting and tweeting and whatever else people are doing. After all, the venerable United States Postal Service is a failing business, trapped by the obligation to explain each and every business move to a Congress that clearly couldn't care less about the postal system. I recall particularly pathetic statements from the former Postmaster General, Patrick Donahoe, toeing a careful line between begging for more money and begging to be able to increase rates, so that he wouldn't have to beg for more money next year. The USPS should be jolly well grateful that I use letters as a means of communication.

But the oddest thing about the large volume of letters between me and my best friend is that we talk every day on more technologically advanced media. We text, we snap-chat, we email. Sometimes, we even phone each other. Surely there isn't anything left to write handwritten letters about.

There always is. There are things that are easier to tell a friend in writing; there are things that are easier to discover about yourself when you're writing it down, rather than speaking it, typing it, or, worse, typing it with one's thumbs. It is a means of journaling, but with an audience, one that cares about what you're feeling, one that will offer you support and advice somewhere down the road.

Also, letters are the most protected form of communication. Conversations can be overheard, the NSA reads our email, police have access to the GPS in our cell phones, but, by God, it is still a felony to open our mail. If one were to plan a criminal act--and obviously, that's not at all what we're doing--the USPS is still the best means of plotting. (It actually goes the same way--the Feds got Ponzi on mail fraud)

The pure physicality of letters helps center a life-long discussion firmly in reality. Letters, as one of my favorite books, Going Postal (Terry Pratchett), points out, provide a sense of reality that every other form of message cannot. You cannot doodle on the envelope of an email; you cannot add dinosaur stickers to a text. Maybe that picture of your cat will get there faster if you text it, but your friend can't frame it.

I'm not even going to talk about the joy of love letters, the kind professing eternal romance that one ties up with a ruby red ribbon. I don't really get love letters, in the most traditional sense. In a sense, in this time of digital communique, all letters are a protestation of love. It takes time and thought and, most importantly, a stamp to get a letter.

Incidentally, and, not to be egging anyone on here, Readers' has some great notecards, stationery sets, and postcards. Just in case you happen to feel like sending someone some love today.

Crossposted: Readers' Books Facebook