Greeting Cards
(the underachiever's view)

I'm a mediocre greeting card sender, at best. Meaning that approximately half of mine are of the "belated" variety. The reason for this (and you BET I'm prepared to pass the blame) is KIDS. Taking kids to a card store is actually how they originally came up with the idea for tickertape parades.

As everybody knows, it's practically impossible to choose greeting cards one-handed. Because they never tuck back in the slot without complaining, and the envelope invariably makes an escape attempt. It's like trying to put a cat in a sink.

Plus, all the while I'm trying to keep tabs on the appropriate place in the SEA of cards where it belongs, while simultaneously keeping a handle on my heathen children. Let's see David Blaine attempt THAT.

There simply are not enough resources, bodily or otherwise. And you hardly EVER find complementary duct tape placed conveniently on the end of every aisle. In fact, that's precisely where they put Mylar balloons, packages of stickers, and party favors. What are they, idiots?

Once in a while I get out solo, and on these occasions take the opportunity to stock up like a hamster with raisins. If you ever see a woman buying a standard-sized grocery bag full of greeting cards, you can pretty much bank on a house full of kids. Who will invariably FIND the stash, and decide that it's a great opportunity to practice cutting out paper snowflakes. I would imagine.

I've had limited success buying cards in bulk, or through the mail. It always seems like a good idea at the time, especially since the bulk variety cards cost approximately 1.7 cents each, whereas the store cards cost upwards of a dollar. What they conveniently forget to mention, though, is that out of 25 cards in a box, 22 are:

"Congratulations on your simultaneous
Bar-Mitzvah and Nobel Prize," 
And one is:
"Congratulations on Winning Miss Corn Fest…
for the Fifth Straight Year"

Only two - on a good day - are birthday cards. Usually with cute pictures of a skunk and a 'possum (respectively) drawn by the likes of Miss Corn Fest, who ought to just rely on her good looks and leave it at that.

If you up the ante, you can get a box of cards with cute babies posing as flowers or other stationary objects. I kind of like these, because I can write whatever sentiment inside which I feel best reflects the occasion. Like "Congratulations on your facelift!" Or sometimes I draw a conspicuous arrow right on the front, with "NOT YOU" beside it, and the obligatory, if bland, "Happy (belated) Birthday" inside.

There are some folks in my family (I won't name any names) that are a tad, uh, thrifty in the greeting card department. But rather than making them by hand, which I invariably find charming, they RECYCLE cards. As if you won't notice that there's another signature peeking out from under the "Happy Easter '89" sticker. Or, that it's a "Congratulations on Your New Home" card instead of the "Get Well Soon" which might be a little more appropriate. Still, it's the thought that counts (and all that crap.)

Truth be told, I actually LIKE having a few of these people in my family. They provide a convenient target for the dregs from the Mondo-Box-O-Cheap-as-Dirt-Cards I bought way back in college. The ones that say something like: "

Deepest Sympathy at the Passing of Your
Beloved Pet Pig <open>
But you're welcome to borrow my bulldozer if you need to dig a big hole for good old Mr. Truffle."

...and such.  Otherwise I'd be stuck with them for the rest of time, because it's practically sacrilegious to throw out an unused card.

Yet some people are so GOOD at sending cards, it defies all logic. I'm thinking that these people must give up driving, bathing, and other nonessential pursuits in order to keep up. You know the type. They always deliver the best, funniest, most poignant cards, ON TIME, with perfect penmanship, and even a matching stamp.

For these people I scrupulously save all the greeting confetti, and insert it (seasonal or not) into their next card.

Happy Belated Birthday.