Good Mail

I just watched Peter McKinnon’s latest video about how he’s been sending people handwritten, or in his case, hand-typed letters. He’s gone out of his way to have his own stationery made, which he loads into a typewriter (yes, the old-fashioned kind) and types his message, signs it with a pen, and then puts the letter into a custom envelope and sends it off in the mail. Some of us call it snail mail.

The guy who once earned a degree which involved running a printing press geeks out over stuff like this. Frankly, I would love my own foil-embossed stationary. But I digress. In the video, Peter mentions how our mail is constantly filled with things we don’t want: bills, advertisements, political junk, credit card applications, and so on. This very thing spurted a short post from me last year, in which I wrote:

I hate checking the mail. All I get is bills and credit card applications. Maybe occasionally some coupons. There should be more good mail. Post cards. Letters. Random photos. An occasional gift. Just because.

This idea has been in my head for a few years now, thanks to my favorite radio station KEXP. A few years ago during the pandemic, they deemed September 22 “Good Mail Day”. Here’s what they posted about that:

In these unsure times for the United State Postal Service, we wanted to show our appreciation for the post office and the connection of physical mail. On September 22nd, it’s KEXP’s Good Mail Day! We’ll be playing all requests and reading messages that we get by mail. So send us a postcard! Fan mail, love letters, mail-related requests, notes about your favorite parts of KEXP, why you love the post office, pictures from where you live, art from your kids, photos of your cats… we want it on a postcard!

Seriously, send me these things too. I often go a week or two without checking the mail until I can either see the door bulging on my mailbox or when I’m actually expecting something I asked for. I’m sure my mail person would prefer it if I had more wanted mail as well. I used to have a couple of friends who would do this kind of thing, and it was fun. I wasn’t the best at letter writing, but a postcard or cat photo is very doable. It brings a smile to receive that.

Part of this feeds into my creative side. If I send something like this, there’s a piece of me with it, and it’s tangible. Another part feeds into the part of me that wants life to slow down, if just for a moment. It’s the same thing that lures me into physical notebooks. I bound to remember the conversation more. There’s also that part where if someone finds my notebooks after I pass, they’re instantly given a glimpse into my life and mind, even if that moment is 100 years from now. The same applies to photos, postcards, et cetera.

So, if you’re a friend of mine, you just might receive something like this from me. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll return the sentiment. And maybe then it spreads to your other friends and family. Because, while all the new ways to communicate can’t be beaten in terms of speed and convenience, there are things about the old methods that can’t be duplicated by new tech.