Death of a tradition is not in the cards
Every year, right about this week in December, I draft an obituary in my head documenting the death of a particular holiday tradition.
“The Christmas card, 176 years of age, died of neglect from Gen Zers who don’t know what mail is. It is survived by an emoji of Santa Claus who just had his eyes dilated …”
Alas, facts got in the way of another wiseacre column concept, as the U.S. Post Office claims they still deliver 1.1 billion Christmas cards each year.
So maybe it’s just that (almost) no one is sending them to me anymore.
Of course, there’s a case to be made that buying and sending Christmas cards is a sucker’s game.
They are overpriced pieces of paper, require a bonus investment for stamps, and fuel even more anxiety during the most chaotic time of the year. Not only did Hallmark once con us into thinking this is a vital annual investment, but they expanded the franchise with a cottage industry of treacly TV holiday movies typically featuring actors whose names you can’t quite remember. For falling stars, these soft focus flicks are the 21st century version of sitting in a box as one of the “Hollywood Squares.”
Still, I may be the world’s biggest sap when it comes to Christmas cards. When I was single, I would take the time to adorn my seasonal greetings with lengthy messages and ungainly illustrations. I reliably shopped for unique cards for friends (“I’ll take a box of the ones featuring Spock in a Santa hat for friends in my ‘Star Trek’ universe”).
After a few years of marriage, I developed a new holiday tradition. While taking down the tree, I’d position ornaments in playful poses and photograph them for the following year’s card. Thus, I have cards featuring tiny snowmen and Santas playing my Electric Football game from the ’70s, brawling with Rock ’Em, Sock ’Em Robots, or in a police lineup. My casting calls were aided by my habit of buying cut-rate decorations and Hallmark’s other holiday conspiracy — peddling every ornament imaginable.
That all changed after The Kid came along in 2011 (though we continue to smuggle in cameos from “Santa Cuphead,” my mug featuring Santa’s mug from the 1960s). I’ve shamelessly posed our son even more than I once did with those ornaments.
What’s also changed is that the cover photo is taken as our holiday season launches instead of when it’s as stale as the fruitcake, lest The Kid grow another foot between photo shoots. I’ve made him impersonate Nat King Cole, sit in a sled pulled by The Pup, trapped him in a snow globe and dressed him as “Elf.” This year, I had to hand over the camera to my wife, Lisa, while I muttered direction to the mutt as she and The Kid posed with drums and guitar.
For his part, The Kid (now 12) relishes handing out cards to friends and neighbors. He used to like dropping them in mailboxes, but the Grinch (aka, the postman) would follow the letter of the law and toss anything that lacked postage. A few days ago, our son discovered I had more old boxes of unused cards than Barnes & Noble on Boxing Day. The Shutterfly receipt was still on a carton. Through the magic of Christmas, The Kid instantly became adept at math and challenged me on how the cash would be better invested in buying him a gaming computer.
Still, cards may be cheaper than they used to be. An ad in the Stamford Advocate in 1882 proclaims that Christmas cards were available at a local shop for prices ranging “from three cents to twenty dollars.”
That’s not a typo, and I’ve yet to figure out what you got for $20, which would amount to more than $600 today. Similar ads in 1887 declared that prices were lower than ever before, which isn’t hard to promise when trying to beat paying two sawbucks for a piece of paper.
The design of the first modern Christmas card is credited to John Callcott Horsley in 1843. It stirred up controversy because it depicts a small child drinking wine. The blowback worked, as his sequel cards did not feature kiddos boozing it up (on my cards, the Kid sips nothing stronger than sugar free hot chocolate from Santa Cuphead).
Horsley’s origin card signed off with the words “A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to You.” So basically the rest of us have been plagiarizing him ever since.
But cards have a rich history, including that the tale that became “It’s a Wonderful Life” first appeared as a short story writer Philip Van Doren Stern self-published and mailed out as a holiday greeting.
That they have survived the era of social media and texts suggests Millennials and Gen Zers are really just a bunch of softies. After all, they’ve also revived the vinyl record (we just need to convince them newspapers have a cool retro vibe too).
When I was a kid, I liked the idea that my grandmother disregarded tradition and opted instead to send out New Year’s cards. Now I’m suspicious she was just a procrastinator. But then, my own Shutterfly creations have yet to arrive this year (though I’m suspicious The Kid cancelled them to score the refund).
So the Christmas card tradition that perishes may be my own.