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Spread Some Christmas Postal Cheer

By Bill Zahren
(Posted on 12/07/04)

I'm addicted to sending Christmas cards.

I can't stop sending them. I'm sending them to people with less and less of a connection to me. Even now the woman who works at the Quick Trip nearest my house is saying, "Who the hell is Bill Zahren and why do I care about his kids' activities and his dog's crotch skin?"

Last night, before bed, I sat at the kitchen table and addressed, stuffed and sealed about 15 more.

"Not again," my wife said as I came to bed and she got a wiff of my telltale envelope-licker's breath. "You've been mailing again, haven't you? When will you get some help?"

I've tried. I've tried to kick people off my Christmas card list who don't send me cards in return. My sister keeps track of that. If she doesn't get a card from you two years in a row, you're off her list. Ruthless.

But I send out a good, strong 60 cards a year and I don't even care if the people I send them to respond. I don't keep track. I'm fine if they respond and fine if they don't. With Christmas cards, I fully embrace the concept that 'tis better to give than receive.

The thing is, I write a Christmas letter every year. And my ego has caused me to believe that my Christmas letter has probably become the highlight of everyone's holiday season. So if I didn't send the letter, I'd be depriving others of a Christmas blessings.

Plus, I've always had a thing for mailing letters. Personal letters. I'm one of an estimated 10 people in the U.S. who still sends old-fashioned, paper-based personal letters via first-class US Postal Service mail. I do admit to typing the letters rather than writing them longhand. I send letters to my sister in Lincoln, Nebraska, and parents in Lake Park, Iowa, about once a week.

Christmas has become a great excuse to indulge my letter-writing fetish. I usually spend about 8 hours total writing my Christmas letter, often print something off this Web site to go with it (this year it's the essay on my trip to the Indy 500) and begin the Great Christmas Production.

I inkjet out about 20 letters and columns at a time (printing on both sides of the page to save bulk and postage). Then I sign the letters, fold them very tightly and put them in a rubber-banded bundle.

THEN, I get out the address book, make a list of everyone who will be lucky enough to get one of my Christmas cards, and make the all-important "photo or no photo" decision. In general, blood relations and family friends who I think will care what my wife, children and pets look like get a family photo. Coworkers and people who are Friends of Bill but not really Friends of the Family get just the card and letter (as if that isn't enough!).

Then I select which of my tasteful cards each recipient gets and sign, stuff and seal them. At the end of a production binge I'll have 20 or so stamped, sealed Christmas cards in a pile, ready to mail.

There's something almost sexual about fondling a stack of letters. I like to count them about a dozen times, fan them out, put them in alphabetical order, squeeze, shuffle, and restack them. And dropping 20 cards into the mail box is always an electric moment.

You should try it. This Christmas, send a holiday letter. Yes, one of those crazy form letters. I know, you're saying, "Nothing interesting happened to me in the last year." I don't believe you. OK, you weren't elected president, but still. If some long-lost cousin called you right now, you wouldn't say "nothing interesting has happened to me this year" and hang up. Keep the letter short. Maybe you had surgery, visited friends in Phoenix, had a granddaughter crash your golf cart and found out you like raising orchids. Plenty of material right there.

No matter what you write, the recipient will appreciate it more than just getting a plain old card with your name scrawled in it. You're adding value. Think of it as giving the gift of a brief glimpse into your life. You're giving them the gift of the time you invested in writing and producing the letter. Trust me, when your friends and family get your holiday letter, they'll read it and, unless it goes on and on about how STUNNING and PERFECT your kids and grandkids are (the dreaded BRAG LETTER), they'll appreciate the effort.

Wow, I've given myself the shakes. I think I have time to address, stuff, stamp and stack eight to 10 more cards before work. These Museum of Modern Art Christian scene cards are stunning! One may be headed your way even as we speak. Lucky you.

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