7. The Increasing Price of Stamps


A hand holds a postcard in morning light with an edifying reminder to its recipient. The addressee: You, wherever you are.

I mailed myself a post card from Denver with an Elvis Presley stamp and a lovely mountain panorama and the most important thing I could think of to tell myself. It took me four hours to think up two sentences to write on that post card and a year and a half to realize it never got to me due to mailman error or act of God or possibly the increasing price of stamps.

I wonder who the lucky recipient of my post card was, Who received an unsolicited reminder to love himself with the same fondness and admiration that he loves other people rather than with resignation and grim stoicism.

I would mail a lot more post cards if I didn’t have to specify who they were going to be delivered to.