Stranger Things
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, someone read a newspaper article that, as the name suggests, was written on paper. (It wasn't called “the paper” for nothing.) They thought of a friend who would like it.
Since Al Gore wouldn't invent the Internet for years, there was a lot involved: the hunt for an envelope, a stamp, a piece of paper, a pen or pencil. And scissors! After all, the article had to be cut out of the paper.
If someone else in the house hadn't read that article yet — well, too bad. Or maybe they were reading a completely different article that finished on the back of the one that was removed. Also too bad.
Then came the folding of the article, which never involved a simple rectangle. Inevitably there were outlier sentences that would tear off if not secured with tape. Add tape to the list above.
Finally, the envelope was ready for the “mailman,” so called because it was always a male man. He came to the door, left your mail, and picked up outgoing mail. Twice a day. That's right, twice a day, rather than — never.
Those were the days.
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Linda! As always, you’ve hit the target🤣!
I am so grateful to have known the excitement of sending and receiving mail. I loved writing letters to my grandmother and my friends, perusing the new phone books and catalogues. I even feel nostalgic for some of the “junk” mail. My mother-in-law still clips articles and brings them over. It makes you feel so good that she knows you well enough to think you would appreciate something about the article—and that she takes the time to get the scissors, cut it out, sometimes even highlight a line or two, and hand-deliver it.