Boxed In
posted Apr 22, 2004, 10:52 PM | 17 Comments
I realized recently that nearly every time I need to drop outgoing mail into a blue metal US Postal Service mailbox, I hesitate uncomfortably for a second or two. I inspect my mail, doublechecking return addresses, the adhesive on the stamps and envelope. There's something a bit intimidating about the finality of US mail, in contrast to nearly all other routine dealings I have with objects in the real world. Most of the time when I put something somewhere, I can take it back if I want, I can pick it up again. But mail is final; with mailboxes, it's like I'm dropping a ring into Mount Doom.I suppose part of the reason it's a big deal is that I only use snail mail for important stuff these days, like big checks and letters home. But it's funny that over the web, transactions and communication rarely seem so final. If I pay a bill, PayPal someone, or order from Amazon, I can usually take it back easily. I can edit or remove blog posts that don't come out right. Clicking the SEND button makes email final... but I never feel that same hesitation. It's like... staring at a bright screen full of 1s and 0s just doesn't drum up the same emotional reactions as that BLUE METAL BOX OF NO MAIL RETURN. I am a creature built for physical space.