Sometimes the postcards I collect interest me more from the message written on them than the postcard image. For example, this young lady writes to her friend; Just a quick note, early or late, to say happy birthday. I hope the sky finds you well, the train sings you to sleep, the whiskey tickles your throat, & a firm hand slaps your ass 26 times over. Lots of love, D
Now look, I know this is a tradition in some parts, but isn’t 26 a little old for the “birthday spankings” thing? She’s nobody’s poet.
This one someone sent to her mother, apparently they correspond only by mail; Dear mom- Received your letter. Jim was to tell you about our moving, but your letter didn’t sound as if you knew. I thought he had called both you and Elsie and Frank. We are all packed, moving May 2nd. Will write to you from our new address as soon as I can. Love, Olive & Dale.
Teresa was thinking maybe Olive was mute, or deaf? But what are the odds that Dale was also? Obviously mom had a phone. Maybe they couldn’t afford long distance charges? Maybe Olive picked Oranges for a living?
We are so spoiled today.
Here’s the gist of a postcard from my personal collection, A guy is demanding a refund for deodorant because his girlfriend still insists that he smells bad. It must have been the 1930’s version of the Clinique counter, because there is a clerk staffing the counter where underarm deodorant is advertised.
Now, our customer service policy would dictate that this man could return the product for a full refund, despite the fact that deodorant cannot counteract the effects of not bathing or brushing your teeth, and it says right on the bottle, that all guarantees are null and void if you are a professional polecat wrestler.
The postcard is from the Tichnor Brothers- Here’s a site I found showing more of the Tichnor Comic Art cards.