Postcards are Nice

When traveling for an extended period of time (or to a new place), sometimes we’ll send a postcard or two. We’ll find some iconic or ironic image, write a brief message on the back, and mail it to family and friends. It’s quick, easy, cheap, and mildly entertaining. But why does it exist anymore? With our various means of communication–phone calls, emails, text messages, tweets, blog posts, Instagrams, Vines, Snapchats, pins, re-blogs, and so on and so forth–why bother to give business to the postal service? We can instantly send a few words to family or friends, and if we find an iconic image (or several), we can send them along too. And it’s free! Postcards are an inferior means of communication in almost every way, shape, and…

Well, I guess not form. They are physical, and their tactile form separates them from their digital cousins. There’s something special about receiving a random chunk of paper. They’re small and inconspicuous. Unobtrusive and benign.

The above image is the supposed “first printed postcard,” and appears to be sent from an army camp in 1870. They haven’t evolved much since. Postcards still serve as a variety of souvenir–a gentle reminder of a place where someone thought of you. Be it a beach or a mountain, a big city or an army camp, postcards are a subtle means of saying “Hey, I thought of you for a second.” That’s about it.

But there’s beauty in that. Sometimes the images aren’t the most flattering–or, rather, quite repulsive in aesthetics–but they deliver a good message. Their brevity is nice. They take only a second to read and a few moments to appreciate. They rarely warrant a response or demand a reply. They are the manifestation of noncommittal communication. Like a small wave or a quiet hello, they are a pleasantry that doesn’t expect reciprocation. This relaxed nature is refreshing amidst the slush of bills, emails, and advertisements pining for our attention. Postcards can decorate the doors of refrigerators or liven up the tawdry page of a scrapbook. Over time, they can form a nice collection that takes up little space. Stories and relationships are stored in each card. They can start conversations with guests and spark vicarious adventure. They’re a wonderful gift and pleasure to send. We should hope they don’t get lost in our clutter of modern communication. They may be small, but postcards are an embodiment of joy.

They’re just nice.