A CHRISTMAS CARD SAGA

As a diva of a certain age, I cling to holiday traditions like toilet paper on a shoe. Fortunately, there are many rituals which have withstood the passage of time: Christmas trees, gifts, carols, and jolly old Jello shots. However, one practice that is slowly becoming extinct happens to be the very essence of tidings of comfort and joy. I am referring to the Christmas card. The cost of stamps, on-line animated greetings, lack of time, and the rise in glitter allergies (please have your EpiPens at the ready!)  are all reasons they have gone out of favor. However, as one who would have adored the genteel snobbishness of The Golden Age, I mourn the decline of this gracious nicety.  If only we could go back to the glorious days of The Christmas Card Olympics!

“Sir, I accept your challenge to participate in The Great Christmas Card Duel. Glitter guns shall be drawn at dawn!”

In the future, historians will note that it was the advent of the YUPPY generation that turned the kindly act of sending greetings into a nation-wide rivalry match.  Hallmark capitalized on this by coming up with the slogan, "When you care enough to send the very best." Their ads featured recipients discreetly checking the back of a newly opened card, looking for the Hallmark seal. That mark, we learned, was an emblem of quality and sophistication. After all, who else was featuring glitter-enhanced artwork by Thomas Kincaid, the Painter of Light? It was common for participants in this round of the competition to max out their American Express, but it was worth it. A Hallmark card was the equivalent of a triple axel. 

“Can you believe it, Marge! Our son is a Hallmark Card sender! I’ve never been so proud.” 

If all you could afford was American Greetings, you might still win the next big event - The Tallying of the Cards. In those days, competitors taped their  Christmas cards to doorways, lined them up on shelves, and strew them across the mantel for easy counting purposes. Never mind that half of them were from insurance companies, podiatry offices, and your trash service. A card was a card! Since the goal was to have as many as possible on display, even the one from the newspaper carrier begging for a tip was fair game. 

Acceptable even when an appointment reminder is included. 

The next level of the competition - The Sending of the Cards - came in two stages. The first was the griping/boasting about the work involved in getting the massive number of cards out the door. Back then, we sent greetings to every person we had ever known. If they were in the Rolodex, they were on the list. A strong competitor made it a point to complain to anyone within hearing range that they were working night and day to finish their cards. "I finally told Harold that he must address his side of the family's cards. Why should I be expected to sign, seal, and stamp 375 cards by myself!" Points could be earned by showing up at the post offices with cardboard boxes overflowing with neatly addressed envelopes, sighing and moaning while waiting in the long line. But, the winning strategy was to bring the cards with you to various activities to sign and address in full view of others.  Watching your child at their rehearsal for the Nutcracker? Bring those cards. It's half-time at your child's basketball game? Whip out those cards.  Taking calls for the PBS annual fundraising drive? Sign those cards right there on stage in between donors. Working the soup kitchen? Take your cards to a quiet table during break. The point was to make it known that you were an over-worked card sender.

An aerial shot of you in line at the Post Office to mail your cards was an excellent strategy. 

The second part of The Sending of the Cards was won by whoever's greeting was the first to arrive in the mailboxes of friends and family.  This was tricky, as it was important that no card arrive before the day after Thanksgiving. In fact, anyone whose cards were received on Monday-Wednesday of Thanksgiving Week was forced to forfeit their status in all other events. An early-arrival was the greatest faux pas of them all and deemed a disqualifying error by the Card Committee. 

“Mwah ha ha! It's November 19, and Bev Jenkins card just arrived. Loser!!”

Of course, there were many behind-the-scenes activities that added to the competition. Some people assumed they'd gain points by including an annual family newsletter fresh-off their laser-jet printer. (No extra points granted.)  Others bought their cards from Fotomat, using a family picture as a substitute for a pithy sentiment and a glitter-enhanced winter scene. (Point deducted for not actually signing the photo-cards.) Points were also deducted for anyone who used a card-mailing service, however, we did marvel at the extra expense! 

Nowadays, holiday greetings come in a variety of forms - a card, a message on social media, a smile to an exhausted cashier. Gone are the days of counting cards, but we can still count the good things in our lives. Even in our lowest times, we can find small reminders that it is all going to be okay. When we say, "Happy holidays," be it online, in person, or through the mail, what we are really saying is, "I wish you a mantel-full of reminders."  Meanwhile, things would have been much less stressful for us back in the days of The Christmas Card Olympics if we'd followed Ronald Reagan's lead and just sent our loved ones cigarettes!