I don’t send out Christmas cards anymore. Coincidentally, I don’t receive any either. There’s a part of me that feels sad because it is a lost art. I remember watching my mother sitting at the dining room table with at least 100 cards diligently writing in them. I’m sure there was a sort of “caste” system for how much she would write in the card. I’m guessing it depended on how much she liked the person. Don’t get me wrong, she liked everyone but let’s be honest we all like some people a little more than others. Really good friends got a full page of “We’re all doing great, life is wonderful, hope you are too, etc etc…The people who you still like but you don’t really care if you see them in person in the near future would get a half page of the condensed version of the full page. People you barely care about would get a “Merry Christmas” at the top of whatever the verse is that the card provides followed by your name. The people you really don’t give a rat’s patootie about but you feel obligated to send a card to because you’re Catholic and that guilt thing is weighing on you will just get your name at the end of the supplied text. (Usually relatives.)
Since my mom sent out so many cards we would also get a ton of cards. The mailmen in those days must have bulked up big time. I used to love getting cards even though most of the time I had no idea who they came from. As I got older and my impish ways took over I remember putting a card in the pile that said, “We’ll be in town at Christmas. We’ll drop in to see you. Signed Bob & Ingrid.” (It was a fake name.) My mom would say, “Who the hell are Bob & Ingrid?” I’d laugh. She wouldn’t think it was that funny.
I wonder about the Hallmark writers of Christmas cards. Does anyone actually read what they write? All I really want to know is if the person who sent me a card cares enough about me to write more than a name. The Hallmark writer could probably write “May the wonderment of Christmas bring you joy and happiness and a little reindeer poop throughout the season” and no one would notice.
I was fairly consistent in the early going when I was out on my own and I wanted to keep in touch with certain people. I would actually write a full page. Then e-mail arrived. And then Facebook. I think the Christmas season gave you an excuse to reconnect. Today e-mail and Facebook does that for you at any time of the year. It feels redundant to send a Christmas card. I think there is a degree of insincerity to send out a card because you feel there’s an obligation. Especially if the card you’re getting or sending only has, “Merry Christmas, signed, me.”
Christmas card writing is a lost art. Unfortunately, I’m O.K. with not sending or receiving one. I’m quite happy with getting a nice e-mail or a note on Facebook. And it saves the environment. Ya, that’s my excuse. I’m saving the environment. And by the way, how much is it for a friggin stamp these days?
Mark Boogieman 