Just for fun, I will frequently post a tweet or status update listing the destinations of my outgoing mail for any particular day. Today, however, in addition to some of the normal swaps and correspondence, I’m sending out the latest issue of Permit Patter, the newsletter of the Mailer’s Postmark Permit Club. Thankfully, the Club sends the materials and pays the postage.

Turns out that too much of anything can be a good thing: while I enjoy cancelling my own mail, I would not want soon to repeat having to do it nearly 200 times in one sitting. But the membership will know the joy of receiving mail cancelled with Gainesville, Georgia, Mailer’s Postmark Permit #1.

Today’s mail goes to:

Alabama: Theodore

Arizona: Sun City West, Tucson (x3)

Arkansas: Bryant, Rogers, Sherwood

California: Albany, Alpine, Chatsworth, Denair, Fort Bragg, Half Moon Bay, Lodi, Modesto, Northridge, Sacramento, San Diego, Stockton, Sunnyvale, Thousand Oaks, Torrance, Yucca Valley

Colorado: Broomfield (x2), Crook, Olathe

Connecticut: Berlin, Bristol, Enfield, Tariffville

Florida: Cape Coral, Ft. Myers (x2), Milton, Ormond Beach, Seminole, St. Petersburg (x3), Tampa

Georgia: Gainesville (that’s me!), Harlem, Powder Springs, Stone Mountain

Hawaii: Wahiawa (x4)

Illinois: Addison, Champaign, Chicago, Galesburg, Peoria, Rockford, Schaumburg

Indiana: Buck Creek, Muncie

Iowa: Iowa City

Kansas: Caldwell, Caney

Louisiana: Talisheek

Maine: Bangor, Greenville

Maryland: Annapolis

Massachusetts: Easthampton, Oxford, Weston

Michigan: Bay City, Cheboygan, Delton, Hazel Park, Munising

Minnesota: Bemidji, Rochester, St. Louis Park, St. Paul

Missouri: Birch Tree, Joplin, St. Louis

Montana: East Helena

Nebraska: Omaha (x2), Sidney, Virginia

Nevada: Henderson

New Hampshire: Contoocook, Epping

New Jersey: Englewood, Marlboro, Union

New Mexico: Albuquerque, Santa Fe

New York: Bronx, Farmingdale, Lake Clear, Liberty, Newark, Potsdam, Rochester (x2), Syosset, Owego

North Carolina: Cary, Sanford

North Dakota: Pembina, Warwick

Ohio: Akron, Canton, Chardon, Lakewood, Marion, Oberlin, Sidney, Solon, Stow, Warren

Oregon: Ashland, Newport, Portland

Pennsylvania: Bellefonte, Hughesville, Lemont, Mount Joy, Murrysville, Pittsburgh, Royersford, Spring Mills, Temple, Upper Darby, Valley Forge

Rhode Island: Newport

South Carolina: Columbia

South Dakota: Deadwood

Tennessee: Lawrenceburg, Portland

Texas: Atascocita, Austin, College Station, Garrison, Kilgore, Luling, Nome, Port Neches, San Antonio (x2), Silsbee, Sugar Land, Texarkana, Longview

Utah: Highland

Virginia: Alexandria, Colonial Heights, Falls Church, Herndon, Norfolk

Washington: Duvall, Kent, Seattle, Snohomish, Spokane, Tacoma

West Virginia: Moundsville

Wisconsin: Madison, Oshkosh

Today’s International Destinations: Don Mills, Ontario, Canada; Mexicali, Baja California, Mexico; Skopje, Macedonia; Bonaire, Netherlands Antilles; San Salvador, El Salvador; Madrid, Spain; Abingdon, Oxfordshire, UK; North Walsham, Norfolk, UK; Tripoli, Libya; Vaivadai, Panevėžio, Lithuania; Minsk, Belarus; Moscow, Russia; Saint Petersburg, Russia; Brookfield, Queensland, Australia; West Hindmarsh, South Australia, Australia; Dordrecht, Netherlands; Guangdong, China; Brunnen, Switzerland; Kouvola, Finland.

I stopped by the annual Mule Camp Market for lunch today, and picked up an old Perry Mason dime store novel (“The Case of the Sleepwalker’s Niece” by Erle Stanley Gardner, 1942, third printing) and — bonus! — found a penny postcard that apparently served as a bookmark.

The card comes from the British War Relief Society, Inc., and acknowledges the generous donation by Mrs. Camille Sadler of “4 more sweaters R.A.F”. Mrs. Sadler seems to have been staying in New York with her friend Mrs. Honore Palmer, at the very swank River House apartment building. Built in 1931, it has been an art deco landmark ever since and, today, one can get a three-bedroom apartment there for around $5 million.

But, back to Mrs. Sadler. I suppose she might have picked up the Perry Mason to read on the return trip back to — well, somewhere; who knows how many times the book has changed hands before it came to me but, apparently none of them bothered to open the book, let alone read it. I found the “bookmark” less than halfway through the book; I guess Mrs. Sadler never found out what happened to the sleepwalker.

Be sure to check out some of the other items in the Weekend Mailbox, and stop by Postcard Friendship Friday.

Thea in Queensland, Australia, with whom I swap postcards regularly, thought she would make me work for my postcard this time around. This postcard-sized puzzle arrived in an envelope in 48 pieces. I thought I might delegate this to 6-year-old Grandson #2, but then I looked a little more closely. If you examine the individual pieces rather than the completed picture, you will notice that almost every piece is an abstract mess of wavy lines or dots.

The joke’s on Thea, though. I let the puzzle sit for four days, being extremely busy with work; the missus decided to put most of it together for me. She figured out Leonardo; I filled in around the edges.

This “postcard” came from a Da Vinci exhibition near her home, with working models of Leonardo’s vehicles and some of his other inventions, built according to his plans.

Is it me, or does this sturgeon look surprised? “The Lower Dells has always had an abundant supply of sturgeon. This photo by H. H. Bennett, pioneer landscape photographer of the Dells, was made in the late 1880s. The spear fisherman stands at the cribs near the present dam.”

This Wisconsin postcard came from Tim in Indiana via Maine or, as Tim puts it, “a Wisconsin postcard sent by a Hoosier with a Maine postmark.” Turns out that Tim has three Mailer’s Postmark Permits, one of which was issued in Meddybemps, Maine. Mail postmarked by the mailer has to be mailed from the post office which issued the permit, so Tim would have had to postmark this card with an advance date, put it in an envelope, mail it to Meddybemps, and ask the postmaster there to mail it on the correct date. As you can see, the postmaster didn’t wait; this postcard is postmarked next Tuesday.

Sure, it seems like a lot of trouble, but who else can postmark their own mail with the word “Meddybemps”?

After 10 weeks of wrangling with the United States Postal Service, I have managed to convince them that it is perfectly legal (and, in fact, covered in the Domestic Mail Manual) for them to issue me a permit that allows me to cancel my own stamps before mailing, instead of having them do it.

Why? Besides the fun of taking on a government which is ignorant of its own rules, I hate the new ink-jetted text that passes for a postmark nowadays. I’ve also noticed that I get one or two mailpieces a month from mailers that have their own permits, and one can actually tell when and from where it was mailed.

My cancellation device (an “indicia”, really just a rubber stamp ordered from a private manufacturer) arrived a couple of days ago, and I presented it at the Post Office for approval and received my permit. I am sure they were happy to see the back of me.

I am holding off on using it for now; I ordered some special postcards to commemorate the first day of use and am awaiting their arrival. If you’d like a snazzy piece of “First Day of Use” mail with my new postmark, leave a comment.

Kudos to the postal services of the United States and the Republic of Singapore for delivering this Christmas card intact; it’s only four inches square.  Of course, Ammy, who sent this in, also wished the postman a merry Christmas on the back of the envelope, so it may have gotten special handling.

Ammy writes that, “in Singapore, almost everyone — regardless of race and religion, celebrates Christmas, even the Malays, who are traditionally Muslim by birth (they are born into Islam). In fact, every year, our government decorates a stretch of road in our prime shopping district, Orchard Road, with Christmas lights…. There’s also a contest among the Orchard Road shopping malls, for Best Decorated Mall.”

Ham radio operator Phil Shea may have just gotten lucky to get such a cool callsign, but more than likely it’s a vanity callsign he specifically requested. And why not? He did live in Massachusetts, after all, less than an hour from Salem. Also, take note of the fact that Phil was l33t before the rest of us.

This card acknowledges transmissions from Phil picked up by our friend Bill Seaback on February 13, 1960. It looks like Phil saved some money on his QSL cards by having only one side printed. Regardless, it makes for a great Halloween post.

This will be the last of Bill’s QSL cards to be posted. I’ve been in touch will Bill’s daughter, Jennifer, who tells me that Bill was 15 years old in 1960; as I suspected, he passed away a few years ago. I’ve sent off the 30-odd remaining cards to Jennifer. I’m sure that these cards will mean as much to her as my great-grandfather’s postcards mean to me.

“The Boilermaker Special with the familiar Purdue Union Tower in the background, has been the official Purdue University mascot since 1940. Operated by the Purdue Reamer Club, the Special appears at pep rallies, all home football games in Ross-Ade Stadium and most away games.” The Purdue Reamer Club was apparently formed in the 1920s to organize those Purdue students who were not members of fraternities, and thus had very little say or representation as far as campus activities. The Boilermaker Special as a mascot (entrusted to the Reamer Club) seems a little odd, being mechanical, but it represents the school’s engineering heritage.

Tim, who sent this in, is a fan of both Purdue and postmarks. In fact, he is a member of the Mailer’s Postmark Permit Club and possesses Mailer’s Postmark Permit No. 1 in Buck Creek, Indiana. Here’s the thing: there’s an obscure law that allows you to cancel your own mail. In the days before automation, pre-cancellation saved the Post Office some work. I’ve been thinking about getting a permit myself; I’m not a big fan of the inkjetted postmarks that have been appearing more and more frequently in the U.S. If I do, I’ll let you know; maybe I’ll have a “first day of use” event for the postmark.

Ralph Thomas has a year-long project going in which he designs a new postcard each month, a la those ads that used to appear in comic books when we old guys were kids, then silkscreens them onto cereal-box cardboard.  He sends out six per week, and I was lucky enough to get one yesterday!  Visit his website to find out how to get one of your own.

Update: check out more Ralph Thomas postcards on these other postcard blogs:

• The Incredible Mobot at Just Letter Rip
• Real Full Size Nuclear Sub at The Missive Maven

I had sent Jenna, my favorite Finnish Postcrosser, a postcard showing the observation tower atop Brasstown Bald, the highest point in Georgia, and received this in return, in yesterday’s mail.  After seeing the mountaintop tower (which needs no pillar to stand on in order to be above everything else), Jenna observed, “Your observation tower is a little bit different (from ours).”  Actually, even at first glance, I would say that it bears a striking resemblance to another American tower.  Here’s what Wikipedia has to say:

Näsinneula is an observation tower in Tampere, Finland, overseeing Lake Näsijärvi. It was built in 1970–1971 and was designed by Pekka Ilveskoski. It is the tallest free-standing structure in Finland and the tallest observation tower in the Nordic countries at a height of 168 metres. The tower opened in 1971 and is located in the Särkänniemi leisure centre. There is a revolving restaurant in the tower 124 metres above the ground. One revolution takes 45 minutes. The design of Näsinneula was inspired by the Space Needle in Seattle (emphasis added). The idea of a rotating restaurant was taken from the Puijo tower in Kuopio.

So Näsinneula was ours first.  Sorry, Jenna!

Also in yesterday’s mail was an actual greeting card, apparently sent in lieu of a postcard, from 12-year-old Arttu in Hämeenlinna:

This handy-dandy little piece of advertising ephemera dates from the 1930s — it’s actually an ink blotter, to mop up the excess ink from those pesky fountain pens.  The card that you see is mounted to a piece of purple paper that feels both rough and absorbent — lots of microscopic divots to really soak up the ink.

Wampole’s Creo-Terpin was produced from about the turn of the (20th) century until at least the 1940s; there are other World War II-era cards featuring guides to military decorations rather than common birds.  As far as the bird cards, this is just one of a series.  The cards allowed the local distributor to stamp their own information on them as well.

The “Creo” in Creo-Terpin seems to come from wood creosote, a bush that we know today has even more medicinal value than Wampole thought; it’s good for upset stomach, arthritis, anemia, and is even an anti-microbial.  (One entry in the Canadian Journal of Medicine and Surgery from 1908 tells physicians how to increase the creosote dosage.)  The “Terpin”, on the other hand, probably refers to terpin hydrate, which was usually sold in a solution with codeine to relieve bronchitis.  Terpin hydrate was easy to make, a synthetic subsititute for oil of turpentine, which is an ingrediant in Vicks Vapo-Rub, and makes you feel better.  Unfortunately, the synthetic has never been proven effective (it was probably the codeine that made you feel better), and the FDA banned it about 15 years ago in the US.

When I was growing up, my grandmother had one of these cards on her desk.  I sure wish I had that one, but it’s doubtless been lost to the ages.  But one good thing in which to lose yourself is all the other blogs celebrating this week’s Postcard Friendship Friday.

I love this blast from the past: a postal card produced as one of a series by the United States Postal Service promoting tourism.  Despite the phrase “the Americas”, I’m reasonably sure that the only America being promoted here is the United States.  One thing that strikes me about this card is that, in the three vignettes that feature a happy couple, the man seems to be explaining the significance of each view to his more ignorant female companion.  Way to go, 1972!  (Also, I’m pretty sure that you shouldn’t be touching the Liberty Bell, doofus.)

This particular card is the air mail version (back when such distinctions were made); it includes air mail postage of 15 cents.  The Missive Maven added a vintage stamp to bring the card up to date for mailing.

Seems that the Maven sent a domestic issue of this postal card to her grandfather, which probably places me in very good company.  To me, she begins her message, “Hello Chris Overstreet, Wild Postcard man.”  Ooh, I kinda like that.

Natalia in Saint Petersburg, Russia was kind enough to send (along with several postcards featuring night views of her city) a couple of replicas of Soviet propaganda posters, scaled down to about 5 x 7 inches (12 x 18 centimeters).  The first, from 1929, features a poem entitled “Night Panel” (no, I don’t get it either) and a fine, upstanding young citizen shouting “Stop!” to flappers and other revelers.  My Russian is terrible, but I think that the gist of the poem, which starts with a phrase something like “Here is how things should be”, is that the youth should work and have faith in the government instead of in drink and debauchery.

And speaking of work:

This second poster from 1947 reminds the proletariat that, hey, you can work at night, too!  Of course, we’ll have to put you on the waiting list for tractor headlights; you should have them in about two years.

I had read about the Bendy Friends products out of Australia (“more than just a card, more than just a letter”) and was thrilled when Thea sent one from Queensland.  Unfortunately, some of the “postcard” didn’t make it all the way; compare my card to the silhouette on the right.  My culprit is the United States Postal Service; while the card was canceled by hand in Australia, the back of the card appears to have been mangled somewhat by a sorting machine.

Also in yesterday’s mail, another victim of the Postal Service:

The letter at the top arrived inside the envelope at the bottom, apologizing for the mishap in the handling of this piece of mail.  If, by “mishap”, you mean someone spilling their beverage on this piece of mail while it’s in the mail stream, then I guess it’s an accurate portrayal of what happened.  Fail x 2.

This is a QSL card which, in ham radio, is an acknowledgment from an operator that they have received your report of having heard their transmissions.  This particular card was sent to Bill Seaback of Tacoma, Washington, on 16 May 1960, all the way from Mike Nelson of Kakaha, Hawaii.  Bill was apparently a ham radio listener rather than an operator, and collected QSL cards from all over the Western Hemisphere.  I have several of his cards and most of them, like this card, were apparently displayed using thumbtacks.

Most QSL cards are personally designed by each operator.  Mike chose to reproduce some of the Olowalu Petroglyphs, which are prehistoric rock drawings on Maui.  It strikes me that Mike chose drawings that resemble, after a fashion, a ham radio operator and an antenna.

Mike acknowledges that Bill did indeed hear him talking to K7DQV on 7 May 1960.  It turns out that K7DQV was Fred Nelson of Puyallup, Washington; let’s assume that Fred was Mike’s brother.  If you think about it, it’s really ingenious; in the days before reliable, inexpensive, transoceanic communication, Fred and Mike could talk on a regular basis via shortwave — and Bill could eavesdrop.

There’s no card from Fred among Bill’s collection, so it may be that Bill only heard the half of the conversation coming from Hawaii (which is entirely possible despite their proximity, especially since Fred was probably aiming his signals across the Pacific).  Or it could be that Bill just wasn’t interested in receiving a QSL card from someone in his backyard.

I was able to learn from the FCC that Mike relocated at some point to South Beach, Oregon, which is a straight shot down Interstate 5 from Fred, about five hours away.  I assume that both Mike and Fred, like Bill, have since passed on. Fred last renewed his license in 1994; Mike, in 1988.

Here’s a little chuckle for your Friday.  This is an arcade card, which was a prize that one might win at a carnival or down the shore after beating some mechanical test of strength or skill.  The card is made from heavy stock, and the back of the card is blank.

Kudos to the caddie for his honesty — but she’ll never get her stance right if she insists on teeing off in heels.

Don’t forget to check out the other blogs celebrating Postcard Friendship Friday.

I saw this on eBay about six years ago and couldn’t resist sending the owner a couple of bucks.  This is an envelope sent from the Overstreet Hardware Company of Lexington, Kentucky on 12 May 1942 to the Karr Range Company of Belleville, Illinois, and is proof that one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.

I’m not able to find any mention anywhere of the Overstreet company, but the Karr Range Company made range ovens for years.  An example is pictured at right, and one that’s in good shape will fetch about $200-$400 today.  One wonders if the Overstreets were selling them bolts or something.  To my knowledge, this company is in no way related to my family, but I do have some roots in that part of the country.

Also of interest is the fact that this is a postal envelope (with the 3 cents postage embossed onto the envelope) along with a return address made by a printing press.  Did the postal service offer items like this back then?  Or was the return address printed after the fact by a third party?

This is not a postcard, but rather an arcade card, which were sold in vending machines at places like fairgrounds and carnivals.  Often they were the prize in some mechanized test of strength or skill.  The cards are about as heavy as pasteboard, and are blank on the back.

Arcade cards from later eras featured everything from pin-up girls to movie stars to stills from TV episodes.  Earlier cards from the 1920s and 1930s, however, generally featured comic (and usually slightly risque) sayings and drawings.

Just for fun, I thought I’d share some early recordings from my record collection.  These are 10″ discs which were acoustically recorded between 1916 and 1920.  There were no electrical microphones; the performers were placed around a very large acoustic horn (like those seen on old phonographs, but much larger), and the horn led to a needle in the next room which cut a master disc, from which these records were made.

I have three RCA Victor recordings by John McCormack (1884-1945), who was “Ireland’s greatest singer” according to the John McCormack Society, though I expect that they are a bit biased.   He is very good, though, and his talent comes across even in the low fidelity (at least by modern standards) of these recordings.  I don’t know how much they paid him, but the price marked on the “Prize Song” disc is $1.50 which, adjusted for inflation, has the buying power of  $29.00 as of this writing.

I was able to pull the audio into my computer.  Complicating matters is the fact that all three of these records are severely scuffed and scratched.  They are also designed to be played at 76 rpm, which hasn’t been a standard speed for many decades.  However, I have a turntable that can spin at 78 rpm, so I pulled them in at that speed, used the computer to stretch the recording time and frequency to account for the speed difference, and spent a lot of time editing out the worst of the pops and clicks.  I believe that the results are very much like what one might have heard in their own home 90 years ago.

Of the three, my favorite is “Since You Went Away” (aka Seems Lak’ to Me), with Fritz Kreisler on violin and Edwin Schneider (who co-wrote this “Irish” ballad) on piano.  If you listen closely, you can hear the remnants of a major scratch that went in a straight line from the center of the record to the edge; from the rhythm of the static you can get an idea of just how fast this record is supposed to be spinning.

Author insert a music with WS Audio Player.
Download ( John McCormack - "Prize Song" from Die Meistersinger (10 May 1916)).

Author insert a music with WS Audio Player.
Download ( John McCormack - Only You (16 April 1919)).

Author insert a music with WS Audio Player.
Download ( John McCormack and Fritz Kreisler - Since You Went Away (5 May 1920)).

Here’s a card that Great-Grandpa Phil received 101 years ago from his teacher, Florence M. Fortney, who praises his “punctual attendance, correct deportment, and diligent attention to studies.” This card is much thinner than a postcard, but thicker than paper; I estimate that it’s about half as thick as typical photo paper of today.

As a blogger, you too can have correct deportment: sign up for Postcard Friendship Friday, a brilliant idea from the brilliant Marie (whom henceforth I shall refer to as “my girl Friday”) over at Cpaphil Vintage Postcards. It doesn’t matter if your blog isn’t dedicated to postcards. And if you don’t have a blog, keep checking out my blog, her blog and all the cool blogs that sign up!