Here’s the portion of the show where I’m branded an ingrate. And / or a curmudgeon.
But first, some background.
I quit writing by hand — that is, with a writing implement held in my hand — when I left high school. I can state without exaggeration that I have not handwritten anything more than a shopping list, an occasional short greeting card to Leah on her birthday or our anniversary, or my signature in 15 years. Why? The mess. Notebooks with binders on the left-hand side. Other inconveniences that I, as a lefty, had simply put up with for long enough. I got my first Mac and threw all my pens and pencils away the very same day.
And then came e-mail, and I saw that it was good. And e-cards. More and more of my friends and family made the jump to the Internet, so I was never more than a couple minutes from dropping someone a quick note. So easy. So clean. So cheap (er, “inexpensive”).
I went home today for lunch and collected six Christmas cards from the mailbox. My hands were cold. I was carrying a full 25-lb. glass water jug. The front porch was covered with an extremely slick layer of snow. I had to fiddle with the keys to get through the door. I.e., there was a lot going on, and gathering all these odd-sized envelopes was the last thing I needed to do.
On top of that, you have to sit down and take the time to pry open all those envelopes, then dispose of them when you’re done reading. And there’s the cost for the sender of the cards, the postage, and even the time it takes to go out into the cold, dark winter night to pick out the greetings in the first place. What is this, 1980?!
“Scrooge!” “Grinch!” Yes, yes. I hear you. For the record: I do appreciate the thought behind these seasonal greetings. It’s nice to know that I’m crossing the minds of all these busy people out there at least once a year, even if it’s only for as long as it takes to address an envelope and lick a stamp. But if it really is the thought that counts, well, make it an e-mail next year. I can read it at my convenience, and you can even include a couple cute images of your kids or your pet cat dressed up like the dog from “How The Grinch Stole Christmas.” Heck, I wouldn’t even mind if I got the same e-mail you sent to everyone else on your list. Wouldn’t that be easier for you? Imagine hitting that gorgeous “Send” button one time and thereby disposing of your entire holiday communications obligation. ‘Tis the season of miracles, after all!