All dated up

Found this little postcard treasure in a closet downstairs at work. Just sitting all by its lonesome on top of some old sheets of photo slides. (I find myself doubting whether that’s what you’re even supposed to call those ancient artifacts…slides? That’s right, right?)

Postcards and slides. Like typewriters and cassette tapes, these once everyday objects have become oddities, forgotten completely or elevated as collectibles by weirdos like me who have affection for the past. This shift in value is curious to me. I keep my mom’s 1960s typewriter because I think it looks cool and vintage, but it used to be the thing she’d use to type her homework. Just a utilitarian object, unspecial and easy to ignore.

What are the things that I encounter every day that might someday find themselves on display in a vintage shop or museum? My rainbow of PaperMate felt-tip pens. A printer-slash-scanner-slash-copy machine. Beloved binder clips. Thumbtacks. Which of these will become things that my grandchildren don’t even recognize? (Well, mine would, because I would force them to. “You will sit down next to Grandma and listen to her talk about the good old days, while you watch these Fey-Fallon-era SNL reruns, and you will LIKE IT.”)

Haven't Written Because

So I found this old postcard, and I rescued it from its life of solitude on top of that basement closet filing cabinet, and now it lives on my wall, where it will make this weirdo very happy.


Outdated language lesson of the day: “Busted” was old-timey slang for “broke”… so “flat busted” does not mean what you think it means. And I can’t get google to give me a definitive answer for “all dated up,” but it seems to mean something along the lines of, to use modern meme-speak,  “has all the plans!”


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