mail order.

we live in an age of rapid change. i like email and all that, but i am slightly disconcerted by the fact that my children will not know what a roll of film is. "what's this?" they'll ask with the same incredulity i reserved for spinning wheels and the giant maroon-rimmed glasses my father got married in. the future is here, one day at a time.

the breakneck pace of technological evolution has seen some worthy casualties. the discman, for one, seems to have accepted its demise at the hands of the ipod generation. toaster ovens appear to have disappeared. and the handwritten letter is, sadly, a relic of a bygone era.

there are few things as exciting as a letter in the mail, particularly one from someone you know and love. something about seeing your name written above the address where you live makes you feel as though you might have a place to call your own in this big old universe. it means that someone took the time to buy a stamp. it means that they even know your postal code. that's love right there. knowing someone's postal code off by heart means they are in you life in the most unavoidable way.

my postal code here is 2068. my name above the place where i live in australia is this:

brian rieper
16/2 artarmon rd
willoughby, nsw
australia
2068

in case you were wondering. or in case you were feeling nostalgic and wanted to slip ace of base's "the sign" into your sony shockwave, drop a pop tart in the toaster over, and lay your pen to a piece of paper. just for old time's sake.