Postcard #225: OR Virginity

Text:

Hey. I don't know about you but I would totally go see DB sing in Vegas if I could. The first time I was in an operating room was my 3rd semester of nursing school. I remember being led into the OR at this 12 OR community hospital. "Don't touch the blue." I remember the tech handed me her dance card for the first time in my life. She spun and tied herself up I took the card and put it directly into the trash hanging off the field. Contaminating her trash. A concept at the time that was so foreign to me... She had to rip her garbage off the field... I felt so fucking stupid. She laughed and was patient with me.  I then got to observe a case where a vascular surgeon debrided a foot abscess. After washing it out for a minute he placed the pulse lavage gun against the dorsal side of the patient's foot, lifted the foot and shot water through the patient's foot and hit me and a[nother] student with water through the plantar side of the foot. I guess since I found this funny instead of gross it was a good thing.

Sent to another friend and coworker.  I still remember that tech who handed me my first dance card and explained how someone can contaminate trash.  She was an LPN I remember.  B. Bland.  She eventually started working weekends.  I wonder if she is still there or if she finally retired.  I found her here.  She certainly taught me to be patient with first-timers in the Operating Room.  

Postcard #224: squirrel.

Text: 

I've probably written about this before... But I kind of hate squirrels... It's been replaced a bit by a hatred of moles. But...these rats with furry tails? Eh. Don't get me wrong I'm not swerving at them in my car but I'm not swerving too hard out of their way if they run in front of me. My grandfather used to feed them peanuts out of his hand. I just know how destructive they can be once they get in your house. My old house in NJ once got infected with them at a point in the house that would have required a cherry picker to get at them. BB guns are considered firearms in NJ. Airsoft guns are not. I researched the most powerful airsoft rifle and painful ammo that I could afford. I would sit in my living room, inebriated, shooting them when they poked their heads out of the ceiling drywall. I once littered my yard with pumpkins just to lure them. I was in a dark place. I realize that. None died but harm did reach them.

Sent to a friend and former coworker in Bend.  This is a true story.  The house no longer stands.  It is on the verge of being foreclosed upon.  Did the squirrels win?  I still have the rifle.  Occasionally I will see a squirrel in my backyard doing something it shouldn't sneaking into the chicken coop or eating flowers or veggies.  I think...Tom.  Go get your gun.  And part of me wants to run and go grab it.  But the effort it takes now...makes me feel old.  

Postcard #223: First Round

Text:

Everyone is supposed to be straight edge until they are 21. I seriously was... Maybe I did not do the dumb X's on my hands or listen to Minor Threat or the Gorilla Biscuits. (I'm kind of amazed that I remember those bands.) The first bottle of alcohol I bought was a bottle of Kahlua to make mudslides with my then-girlfriend (now wife) a few weeks after my 21st birthday. I had tasted alcohol but I was so afraid of not being in control of my own body or actions... It would give me panic attacks. So I never drank or took drugs. I know now that is a characteristic of OCD. But I've also learned that drinking fixes that. I don't drink as much as I used to.. fatherhood fixes that. Who the fuck has time for that? Get well man I'm glad you are doing better. Much love... And "thoughts and prayers"...

Sent to a friend and coworker who is out sick.  I think the last time I was absolutely obliterated was before I came out to Portland.  We were trying to reduce what we had in our liquor cabinet before we moved and I was attacking bottles nightly.  Sometimes draining the dregs of two bottles or more a night.  There is a video I filmed of my wife dragging me through our apartment by my feet while I laughed hilariously at my inability to function.  I want to say I am not proud of this but it is an event in my life and I am glad I did not require an alcohol detox on my trip out west.  

Postcard #219: the Expendables

I sent this card to a friend of mine who has been under the weather. I am not posting the text of this card because...well yeah. HIPAA? IDFK. 

I'll probably borrow the themes of it and send it to someone else in the future.

Postcard #215: Recidivism

Original Text:

Beth Lot [?] or L ox [?]

D12 

Jefferson St

Oregon City, Oreg

To:

Minnie Wane

New Text:

My daughter is quietly sitting in the car seat. I look up to the rearview mirror and lock eyes with her. I ask again, "Who did you push down at school today?" "Penelope." She answers. "Why?" "Because."  I sigh and she replies. "She was on the playground with her arms out like this." She held her arms out in a sort of crucifixion pose, head tilted back, pushed forward against the car seat restraints.  "You pushed her because her arms were out?"  I scoffed. "No, I pushed her because I wanted to be alone by myself." "Why didn't you just walk away then? Or tell her you did not want to play?" "No." "Why not?" "I don't know." The car came to a stop at a red light. "Why did you want to be alone?" I asked. "Because I wanted to read. Time out means you have to go inside and read. In the corner. So I pushed Penelope down and teacher gave me a time out." She was looking out the window watching a child in the back seat of the car next to us. I was looking at her in the rearview mirror. The light turned green and when I brought my attention back to the mirror her eyes were waiting for mine. I averted my eyes first.

I sent this to a family member.  A future one at least.  Reading over this...I wish I worked the grammar a little better.  Its hard to read when its a sort of stream of conciousness kinda format.  

Postcard #186: Uninauguration

Text:

Most people estimate the crowd size at your Jan 2016 inauguration an average attendance of 300k to 600k. Many health experts believe that by your Jan 2021 termination date that upwards of 410k people might be dead from Covid-19. Personally, I think it would be fitting if they filled the National Mall with four hundred and ten thousand coffins.  Each representing an American life that you failed. This way you will be able to see what a well-attended rally you made actually look like while simultaneously being able to show you what a complete and utter failure you are as a president and leader. 

-T.M.

Postcard #185: 242k to 248k

 

Text: 

Dear President Trump,

It's a week since you lost the election. I am writing to you to remind you that over 2428,000 (updated) people AMERICANS have died from Covid- 19 related illness. I wonder how many of us might be alive if you just pretended for a few moments that some people might be smarter than you.  If you just told the American people to wear masks and socially distance. All these deaths, I lay at your feet, you evil narcissist. -TM.

I wrote this card and haven't mailed it yet. 6 thousand people have died since I wrote this card.  Six fucking thousand people have died since I wrote this card.  SIX.  THOUSAND. PEOPLE.  Just in the United States alone...

Postcard #182: Vote.

 

Text: 
It's November 2nd. My wife and I just finished dinner. It feels... like how I felt the night before a hurricane was due to strike. I feel like I should be doing something but there is nothing to do until the new pandemonium begins. These past four years have been "stupid chaos" and there is a chance whole new starting "stupid chaos" that I am completely unfamiliar with. Maybe it's dangerous maybe it's more of the same... maybe it will be a glimpse of sanity. When people talk about the election and I am unsure of the political affiliation I just comment that it is wonderful that this election is on track to have the most voter participation since 1908... but that is only 65%. I will then ask people should it be our goal to make this # = 100? Tonight marks my last night in blissful ignorance of how bad it can actually be...It feels a whole lot like when Trump won against HRC.

I sent this to my friend KC/  This is kinda being posted after the fact.  But oh well. Since quite literally...no one reads my blog does it matter if I am backdating this card? I put a first-class stamp on this because last time I am pretty sure someone stole the postcard I sent my father.  I always have my doubts that these sorts of postcards will read their destinations.  I ran packing tape over the front of it to make it more "glossy postcard".  

Postcard #175: Inverted Speedbumps

 

TEXT: 

There are two cars parked in my front yard, front to front. one car was changing was a tire while the other illuminated the workspace with its headlights. I went outside with a flashlight to help/investigate. The "assistant" noticed my flashlight and looked over, "Everything okay? Need another light?" The bearded onlooker was shining the light into the wheel well of a wide-rimmed grey luxury sedan. It seemed shiny. The mechanic/driver said, "Thank you but I'm almost done." He tightened a lug nut and moved the tire iron to another nut. "This is the second flat I've gotten on this road. One day I am going to come out here and patch up these potholes myself!" I did not say: 'Well if you were going the 25 mph speed this might not have happened' or 'l purposely do not call these potholes in so they might damage speeding cars and your labor serves as a reminder to all those currently speeding to slow down.'  Instead, I said: "You are welcome to change your tires here anytime." -TM

Mailed directly to my friend Drew.  I was so excited to get this one out that I forgot to put the zip code down.  I guess we will see how determined the postal service is to get people their mail.  I told him if he doesn't get it I will get him another postcard.  But at least I scanned it before this card was placed in the proverbial circular mailbox.  I think I am going to start calling my potholes: inverted speedbumps.  

Postcard #174: Thank you Postcard

 

POSTMARK:

-----FIGHT-----

INFANTILE PARALYSIS:

JOIN MARCH OF DIMES

Postmarked: Miami, FLA

Jan 21st 1952

ORIGINAL TEXT:

Miami Mon. AM.

Hello Sister. Thanks for 

remembering my birthday but

you should forget all about birth-

days. We are leaving now to 

go back to P.G.[?] We have

been here a week. It was 

78 here today. Hasn't rained 

since we got down here.

Goo Bye

Ezy [?]

Text:

Mr. Pubillones,

I never thanked you for the book "Havana 1900's" sent to me by my Godmother Aimee Davis. The postcards in that book were beautiful. What a collection! So rich with stories and history. Thank you very much. Here is a postcard from my collection just in case you ever write a book about Miami postcards!  Stay safe. Stay healthy! Keep postcarding!

Thomas Minor

www.minormumbles.com

Not much to say here.  I received a book as a gift from my godmother Aimee.  I was looking through it a few days ago.  He wrote a very nice note on the inside which was pretty nifty.  I don't have many books signed by the authors. I've had this postcard for a while.  But...as they say "Kill your darlings." So off to a better place.  

Admittedly I really like the previous text on it. Goo Bye? and  "Thanks for remembering my birthday but you should forget all about birth....days." God, there is something beautiful about that.

Postcard #171: You forgot Snowflake.

Text:  

"Hmm. "Meaningful Dialogue." Am I even capable of that any more? My departure from Facebook was over something pretty innocuous. Politics. As usual. Deep down I do not think it was a particular event. This was just the trigger. Someone was posting for us to put aside the anger and hate in light of the president's recent Covid diagnosis. I mentioned he has gone golfing 24 times while 200k people died. How much vacationing have you done during this crisis? A commenter said. "These comments about the president are disgusting". He was the former head of surgery for a hospital I work at. And it got me thinking I could get fired for speaking ill of the president if that person has the whim and the power to do it. I think Facebook has stolen more from me than anything else on the internets, so I deactivated my Facebook.  I guess I am nothing more than a privileged white European cisgender male left-leaning progressive married heterosexual libtard."

I sent aerobear a direct swap.  True story the up above.  There was a little more to me leaving AGAIN. I was was little blown away the guy said anything.  He had the privilege of retiring just before the pandemic.  He was a nice enough guy when I worked with him.  But the paranoid me...could picture this guy calling up the hospital and complaining about me FOR THINKING IT'S WRONG THAT A PRESIDENT PLAYS GOLF WHILE AMERICANS DIE OF RECORD NUMBERS. WTF?!? Oddly enough, I have not been back to that hospital since that post.  I wonder if there is any correlation? (On a side note I am so paranoid that I went back and edited out my address on this card so people do not come to my house...Fucking deranged.)

This postcard commemorated the inauguration of Woodrow Wilson the 28th president of the US.  This card is probably over 100 years old and I ruined it with my whining.  I think this card is his second inauguration. Holy crap! This is from his first inauguration in 1913.  (The wreaths on the podium are different in the second inauguration). I wonder if to make these historical postcard defacements I could find old stamps and mail them that way.  

Woodrow Wilson oversaw the segregation of the United States federal government and he thought the KKK and the confederacy were a great group of guys.  He turned a blind eye to the oppression of blacks through violence and the squelching of free speech. He was in office when the US signed the 18th Amendment (booo!) and the 19th Amendment (yay!).  He got us in and out of WW1.  He presided over the US during the Spanish Flu.  Which he eventually got this flu...had a stroke...and sort of stewed in the White House for a little while.  During this time his wife Edith did a little Weekend with Bernie's with him to keep up appearances.  

I have a few of these Woodrow Inauguration postcards.  I think I am going to send one to Pennsylvania Avenue and gently remind the current president that he is a sack of human excrement.  That's legal right? That is covered under free speech because I am not threatening to turn him into a sack of shit since he already is one.  I would merely be pointing that out.  I will probably have to used as few words as possible and use graphs and charts or something though.  

Postcard #170: Infector in Chief

 

Text:

Trump held what looked like a Twitter conference alone in a board room somewhere in Walter Reed medical center. There are images of him signing blank pieces of paper with Sharpie markers like he is hard at work... with Covid-19 serving like he should have been before the pandemic hit. He is maskless. Positive.  Outside his hospital room maskless. The work that had to be done to clean that room by environmental services after a patient with a positive airborne virus pretended to be president for a photo op is astounding.

I fucking hate that manchild. - TM

Sent via direct to my friend Erika Davis

Postcard #164: John Henry

 

Text:

When I was younger I never really liked the album "John Henry" by They Might be Giants. I had a friend who played the album for me and at the time I remember not liking many of the songs. I think that this album followed Apollo 18, Misc. T,  and Flood. 3 solid albums. The album after, my personal favorite was Factory Showroom. Followed by Severe Tire Damage. I listened to a ridiculous amount of Flood. But in my MP 3 / Lime wire / Napster years I lost ahold of what songs were on what albums, In my somewhat depressive funks I recall listening to "Self-called nowhere" and "End of the Tour" on repeat. "Destination Moon" always reminds me of one of my favorite shows Futurama. I love the horn sections of "Spy " and "Sleeping in the Flowers". Lately, I have been listening to "AKA Driver" and "Meet James Ensor." My album playing friend was Jesse. Whose friendship of ours was only severed by time and distance from what I remember. He was a good friend, who at the time had a better and more mature grasp of music than I did.

Thomas Minor

www.minormumbles.com

So I looked this guy up.  I hope it's him.  2020 is a crazy time and maybe he will get a kick out of getting a card out of nowhere.  Maybe I will come off as a weirdo...I am 99% sure it was the album John Henry.  My memory is not as wonderful as it used to be.  But if it's not him or his address maybe they might take a listen to They Might Be Giants.  You probably should too.

Postcard #160: "Heroes"

So I had a whole card written on the back on the back of this.  But.  I don't think I want to transcribe it all.  I think I might rework the writing differently. It essentially was the embodiment of this graph:

But the writing makes me sound pretty bitter.  Which wasn't really what I was going for when I set out to write it.  So I will probably cannibalize it for a later postcard.  I sent this postcard to a comic that I subscribe to that I enjoy.  This might feel a little fanmailish.  Maybe it is.  Check out his stuff and Patreon.  It's pretty funny.

Postcard #154: "Still Life"

Sent to LV who I felt needed to have a laugh.  

Text:

After retirement my mother worked her way through all the “active senior” art classes my local college had to offer. This was the final project for her landscapes class. My family refers to this as the last of the “normal stuff”. After she took the figure drawing course things started to get surreal. She learned how much she liked veins. All the figures she painted had obvious apparent veins on them. With each iteration the veins got bigger. She no longer drew full figures...tending to focus on particular body parts. Veiny hands. Forearms. Necks. The veins in the temples and forehead. So many varicose vein addled legs...so many. Then something broke. Enormous breasts with dark green bulging veins - broken switchbacks working up to eerily lifelike aureolas. For Christmas, my mother presented my father a painting she worked on all autumn. After peeling back the brown paper to reveal a painfully engorged close up of the shaft of a penis, the room fell silent. Admittedly there was extraordinary detail in the vessels of the prick you’d think the jute rope thick veins were pulsating. My father hung it above the toilet. It’s still there to this day.

Postcard #152: "Grimm"

Sent to Laura C.

Text:
 This was found and purchased at the “Grimm” estate sale.  I have no clue if it was featured in any episodes.  There was a lot of stuff.  They must have sent people out to buy stuff from goodwill's or flea markets.  Many of the items still had price tags on them.  I bought belts for a furniture piece I have been working on.  I few jackets that may or may not have been worn by Hank or Monroe.  A mug that may or may not have been in Rosalee’s hands in a morning scene.  A few flannels that may or may not have had a dead wesen in them at some point.  I have yet to finish the show...and they stopped filming and the series finale was a few weeks ago.  I do not like the show as I much as I used to earlier on the show.  It feels like the show is on its way to ending poorly.  “Juliette” is putting on her leather jacket and she is revving her motorcycle; getting in position for a sixth season shark jump.  

Postcard #141: "Cold #10 (Final)"

Original Card:

Stamp: "Franklin" Green Scott #300.  United States Postage Stamp 1¢

Original Postmark: Douglass, Kansas. Mar 9 (?) 5 pm 1906 (assumed)

Addressed to: Miss Amy (?) Burk of St Johns ore

Message:

I am at town now. 

I got the postal card you sent me.  

good by [sic]

From

Gladys.

 

Sent via postcrossing to PackerBacker2.  This is my first direct swap.  Normally I don't think I would do this...but who knows maybe the direct swap thing is better.  People who are interesting in receiving interesting things rather than fulfilling a collection or getting peoples names or not appearing UNFRIENDLY.
So here is the finale of the Cold series.  I suppose I should type it all up so it is in one flowing story that could be read.  I don't think I will do that today.  I will come back to this entry and amend it with the completed written version of it.
Dat postcard tho. I found it at a recent estate sale.  So fucking haunting.  A beautiful degree of damage and weathering.  It's so perfect for the series.  I love it and I was so happy that I was able to put something great on it and send it on another trip.  The card is over 100 years old.  Which just blows my goddamned mind.

Yes, that is my address if you are reading and would like to send me something or start a correspondence.

Cold Series:
Part 1
Part 2

Part 3

Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7

Part 8
Part 9

Postcard #101: "Cryptocard"

Postcard #101: "Cryptocard"

Front:

OREGON

Back:

Oregon – Bigfoot & Mountain

Lantern Press Original Poster

Image #68481

You would have really liked this trip. I

should have done this road trip sooner. But to

leave work for such an extended time…So

now I fear somehow I’m missing things

and I owe it to myself to see as much as I can.

“Come on Tom!” You’re saying to yourself with-

out a doubt. It’s impossible to see everything!

West, East, North, South. There’s too much! Perhaps

with immortality such a feat could be achieved. The

U.S. is a fantastic place…physically. SEE IT!

Much love.

Monmouth Medical Center

Attn: 4^th Floor OR front desk

300 2^nd Ave

Long Beach, NJ 07740

Transcribed by jjwood687 on Fiverr.

Postcard #100: "Ladybug"

Postcard #100: "Ladybug"

MAY 30 2016

FROM THE DESK OF ADULT SWIM

A user on Postcrossing sent me a bunch of adult swim related cards because her son works for William Street (I think) and she gets cards she is unwilling to mail to people. A few of them are questionable. Tim & Eric. Tom goes to the mayor. But I could not think of anyone better to receive this card and appreciate it. We are literally in the middle of America right now. Lebanon, KS. I am hoping for the sort of clarity one might expect being here on Memorial Day. Can’t wait to hang out again.

Tom & Samlee

Andrew & Patty

Transcribed by jjwood687 on Fiverr.

Sent to my good friends Andrew and Patty.

This is another card that was sent from the center of the US.  It was so windy there I had to hold the cards to keep them from blowing off the chipped grey picnic table.  This was one of the awesome cards that I received from another Post-crossing member through a direct swap. 

Postcard #87: Crank

Postcard #87: Crank

Front:

Montanejos

Back:

Montanejos       03/15/16

Campana de Maimona

In 8-9^th grade I had a job working for my godfather. I would ride my bike to and from work everyday through the parking lot of my old high school. My diagonal shortcut required me to…recklessly cut through numerous parking curbs in the lot. One evening I caught my back wheel on one of these curbs and flew over my handlebars. I landed on my forearm. I rode home…one-handed. I could move my arm, but it hurt. To stave off a visit from social services my father and I decided to get an x-ray. At Mercy hospital ER…I was triaged and told to wait. Presumably, the back of the line…Only in Miami would the emergency room waiting room have a patio area for smokers. Eventually, a woman poked her head on the patio. “Jack Meehoff?” She asked with a Cuban accent. My father and I looked quizzically. “Jack?” She asked again. We needed her to say the whole name. “Jack? Jack Meehoff?” my father and I shook our heads, stifling our laughter until she disappeared back inside the whole patio laughed. I wonder if she ever found him or what the reason was for his visit.

*Should be read “needlessly”

V-309-07 (Registrado en la propiedad intellectual)

Transcribed by jjwood687 on Fiverr.

 

Sent to Tina Jiva.