Snail mail

'What's your postal address?' A dear friend asked me this question a few days ago, and it produced an instant, heartfelt beam. Don't get me wrong. I'm a huge fan of electronic email. I don't think I would have survived these past few years living away from friends and family without the boons of Skype and email and instant messaging. Within a few seconds I can find out what all 'my' people are cooking in different corners of the world, or if someone is having a bad day, or share a song or article that I like and get immediate feedback. The physical presence of the person might not be there, but you could be face to face sharing the details of your day over a coffee - that's how gloriously immediate communication is today. But getting something in the post? That's a whole other delicious experience entirely. The joy of tearing open an envelope, and reading something handwritten, that's just for you... I don't believe anything in the world feels quite like that. The moment I receive a letter or postcard, I carry it around for days, just to glimpse some inky letters or to have the sudden thrill of brushing against that paper thats all mine, all mine, as I go about my daily business. And when I get asked about my postal address, that means the excitement and anticipation of something coming to a postbox near me really soon. I can barely wait! Hurry up and post the damn thing already...