Now that I am through with paying taxes, I’m doing my best to keep the Post Office afloat.
How? By sending postcards. Especially if I know you are sick. I can’t cook or crochet, so I send postcards to shut-ins.
Both magic and joy are easy to share if you’ve got a Forever Stamp. Do you still have a clothespin on your mailbox? Hardly a week goes by without using a clothespin to hold a postcard on the mailbox until the dog starts barking.
Spoiler alert: if you get a postcard from me, neither the picture on the front nor the message on the back has a damn thing to do with anything. Often, I wonder who I’m really trying to entertain – the patient or the postman.
Once I sent a postcard to a friend living in the reddest part of Florida that whispered: “Mr. Postman, did you know David was a Democrat?”
Sometimes I plagiarize from famous writers. My favorite is brief: “Use no hooks.” Followed closely by: “This side up.” Puzzles some people no end.
I try not to talk dirty but it is difficult to play straight when the picture on front is a bear in the woods. “Yes.” Before you even ask, “Yes.”
People ask where do I get such a variety of cards. The Mystery Woman had a treasure trove of old, old postcards in a cigar box. I am glad she no longer smokes cigars.
In summary, if you get a lot of post cards from me, maybe you should see a doctor.