Tag Archives: snail mail

All keyed up

Oh, the power of the postcard.

I got one earlier this week promoting the new Off-Broadway musical Murder for Two. It intrigued me so much, I bought a ticket to today’s matinee.

Let’s hear it for snail mail!

murder for two

Murder for Two is a small scale production — just two actors, a piano, limited stage dress and no costume changes — but boy, does it impress!

Both actors play the piano; they take turns, in fact, throughout the show. One actor investigates the murder that has brought us all together. The other plays 12 different suspects, distinguishing each with a simple lilt in his voice, a hand gesture, a carefully used prop.

The songs are clever.  The choreography of their movements — exits, entrances, switches between characters and the piano — are on point and brilliant.  And the show is funny.

Just so very funny.

The older gentleman seated next to me summed it up best midway through the show when he turned to his wife and said,

“What have you gotten me into?”

Mr. Postman

I’m out-of-town, dog in tow, and something’s missing. Turns out it isn’t the first time I’ve had this feeling. Case in point: an excerpt from one of my very first posts from August 25, 2009.

I’ve been away on business with my dog Rory for almost a week. I thought I would pine for our daily walks in Central Park; my idle conversations with neighbors on their stoops; or the energy that is Manhattan.

stack of mailInstead, I miss my mail.

What excites me most about my return home — besides sleeping on my own pillow — is seeing what treasures await in the stash of mail that is being held for me at the post office.

I don’t know if my feelings are unique to freelancers. I hope to see checks in the mail, of course. But I will be equally psyched to see letters, magazines, catalogs, theater and event postcards, and heck, even my bills.

I also miss the afternoon saunter to the mailbox; it’s a break I anticipate and enjoy. Here, in my friend’s apartment, there’s only email, and its constant stream — while immediate, necessary, and appreciated — doesn’t have the romance or charm of my daily snail mail delivery.

So, to my mailman back in Manhattan — I miss you. I appreciate you. And I hope you got my hold order. ‘Cause if I come home to an overflowing box of mangled mail…

I’ll have to kill you.

Little changes

As you prepare to celebrate Christmas, make your list, check it twice…

How many cards did you get this year?

Slate.com has predicted that 2010 ‘will do down as the year the Christmas card lay dying’…and they pretty clearly point the finger at Facebook as its snail mail killer.

I am a sender of Christmas cards.  I send a lot of them…in the neighborhood of 150 each year.  And like Slate, I thought this might be the year that my returns would be more in the 30 percent range.

Not so.

That bright red glass bowl on my foyer table where I collect all my holiday cards was near to overflowing four days before Christmas.  And when I return home after my holiday sojourn, I fully expect to add another 10-15 to the mix.

Even though I communicate with many of the people on my list on Facebook every week, they still maintained the long-standing tradition of sending cards at Christmas time.

I appreciate the time they took.  I liked receiving them.  It’s tradition…and one I’d personally like to keep.

But what has Facebook killed?

  • Holiday letters. I read the status updates from those same friends on a daily basis.  A long-winded, highly-detailed letter in teeny-tiny font would be redundant (and probably only skimmed — no offense).
  • Birthday cards.  A cheery birthday greeting on Facebook has replaced much of my birthday card sending — e-card sending, too.  It has the added advantage of being a group experience, too.
  • Phone calls.  If I need to ask a quick question, I sometimes send a message to people who I know are on their computers and can more quickly and easily respond via Facebook.

But for all the ‘deaths’ that can be attributed to Facebook this year alone, the more frequent and enhanced communication I have enjoyed there with friends and family near and far?

Well, that makes us even in my book.

Hail, Snail Mail!

I have been away on business with my dog Rory for almost a week. I thought I would pine for our daily walks in Central Park; my idle conversations with neighbors on their stoops; the energy that is Manhattan.

Instead…I miss my mail.

What excites me most about my return home later this week — besides sleeping on my own pillow —  is seeing what treasures await in the stash of collected mail that is being held for me at the post office.

I don’t know if my feelings are unique to freelancers.  I mean, I hope to see some checks in the mail, of course.   But I will be equally psyched to see all my letters,  magazines, catalogs, theater and event postcards, and heck, even my bills.

I realized while working remotely this week that I miss the daily mail delivery, too.  That afternoon saunter to the mail box is a break I anticipate and enjoy.  Here, in my corporate apartment, there’s only email, and its constant stream — while immediate, necessary, and appreciated — somehow doesn’t have the romance or charm of my daily snail mail delivery.

So, to my mailman back in Manhattan — I miss you.  I appreciate you.  And I hope you got my hold order.  ‘Cause if I come home to an overflowing box of mangled mail, I’ll have to kill you.