I am slowly coming to the conclusion that I hate e-cards at Christmas. If I see another Christmas Jib-Jab I think I will scream. Please don’t send me any e-cards. What is the point of them? No one knows you’ve got them, you can’t put them on display and visitors will think you have no friends! Call me old-fashioned but I like receiving cards from my dotty aunts who can barely remember my name, let alone that I live in Vancouver. Give me the barrel-chested Robin on a snow covered log and the white glitter snowscapes anyday.
Tell me what’s wrong with standing for 55 minutes in a queue at the post office while Mrs. Smith in front of me is sending a parcel to her long list of relatives in Australia or Timbuktu. Hasn’t she discovered the internet I ask myself? Is she just doing this to annoy me?Doesn’t she realize I need to get to work!
So really what is about this ritual I find so appealing? Would it really be better for the planet if I stopped sending my paper cards by mail? Sorry but that is exactly what I will continue to do… and one day I (not too far into the future) I am going to be the dotty relative who slips $20 into the silly Santa card that my grandkids will eagerly seek out, just as I did and my children did.
Dr. O’s Rap
Propping up a sagging economy
As someone who spent some of his adult life researching the mental health benefits of social support, I learned this morning of a new type of support. Who knows, it also may have beneficial health consequences. In my morning read of the Guardian newspaper I discovered that men in Japan are snapping up (pardon the pun) the male equivalent of the bra (once termed the bro or manziere in the Jerry Seinfeld show). Call it fashion, call it fetish, I really can’t wait for the bro to come on sale at Costco
