I still send postcards to friends and relatives and those who are young-at-heart and find enjoyment in receiving a missive from some far-off locale. Indeed, I still write letters, but find my correspondents dwindling as the preference for thumbed messages grows. When sending postcards, I have a tendency to choose those that best capture the visited town or city from some previous decade, where the images look like stills from 1950s feature films—overly colored with azure blue skies, hot pink flowers and lime green lawns. Of course, these postcards can often be of the most boring and mundane things—a roundabout, the civic Christmas lights, a multi-story car park, a shopping mall, a newly opened motorway.
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