Oh, Mr. Postman. Bring Me a...

 

Maybe I'm alone here, but I enjoy the act of sending and receiving mail. Don't get me wrong, I have no issues with email and in fact, I use it all the time. But there's something nostalgic about gathering letters from a mailbox, off the floor after sliding through a slot in the door or from a lock-and-key box from the post office, that isn't comparable to the electronic version.

Perhaps it's a direct result of Americans using email so frequently that this nostalgia has even developed. We've started to look into our cyber-mailboxes multiple times a day instead of savoring the anticipation and enjoyment of collecting scattered envelopes after work. We've become mail-spoiled. Shame on us.

I'm not going to lie, I like getting Publisher's Clearing House prize patrol warnings — it makes me feel alive. There's nothing like seeing that pale yellow envelope to know you arrived. It's so grown up, so here and now, so trash chic. I feel validated as a human being. Yes, I'm here! Heck, they even know where here is, they know where I live! Send me the latest newsletter from some obscure organization I signed up for during my empowered college years, I still may want to save a starving child in Uganda and I love getting those little return address stick-'ems and matching stickers — keep them coming I say!

Sure, "going paperless" may be the hip save-the-environment way to go, but what's the fun in that? Instead of the satisfaction of ripping useless reminders to renew your magazine subscription, you have a full inbox. Hitting delete just doesn't do it. I actually like to stand with the trash can nearby, tearing apart useless information and chucking it into the bin until I'm left with a slim pile of credible mail. That way I know I've accomplished something. And it feels good.

And if not for the sense of accomplishment it gives you, then at least for the mail men and women. I like to think of them as a Norman Rockwell character from his paintings, trudging through knee-high snow in frigid temps just to bring you the daily telegraph. That's dedication. Come rain, come snow, come hail and sweltering heat they suffer so that you can stay communicated to your love ones... or prize patrols. Are we just going to ignore their century-long sacrifice?

Sometimes I even romanticize about the days of the Pony Express and how exciting mail used to be. (*Sigh*) If only we still had that allure: Racing through the mountains atop heated steeds, saddle bags bulging with love letters and prize announcements from Ed McMahon, constantly racing against the clock and the elements to make sure the mail arrived on time. Classy. That's what that is. It's classy. Where's the class in the electronic chiming of "You've got mail"?

The other day I was surprised to see that a job I was applying for requested I send my resume by post. Was it a fluke? I thought it strange at first and was even tempted to ignore the request and shoot my info off lightning-quick via email, but realized that this was a perfect opportunity to do my part in keeping the mail system alive.

I went to my friendly neighborhood post office to purchase a manila envelope for my mailings (you know the ones, they are brownish-yellow 9 x 12 folders with a flap and small clasp.), but I was surprised to find that there were none for purchase. They've all been replaced by flashy white cardboard sleeves, puffed bubble-wrap filled envelopes and origami-inspired boxes. Whatever happened to the discreet manila envelope?

"You can use one of those white jobbies there," said the woman behind the counter, "or you can jazz it up with that there Mickey Mouse or confetti colored one."

Uh, what? Seriously? Mickey Mouse? Yeah lady, that's right. I'm going to send my resume via Mickey Mouse envelope. That should really give me a leg up on the competition.

After much searching and some swearing under my breath I found the damned folders for $4.49 at Office Depot. I then returned to the post office to mail my documents. God forbid the post offices have ordinary envelopes in stock.

Why am I telling you this? Because it made me realize how the mail system is going downhill. Not only is it becoming obsolete, but Disney has taken it over as well and turned it into some sort of circus. I began thinking about paperless alternatives, postmen and women losing their jobs and the utter delight I get in receiving mail, no matter what it is.

Here's to mail!