Night Owl Cards

Even though the PWE has become much more prevalent in card exchanges through the mail -- who can afford postage prices anymore -- I still see a bit of attitude about it from time to time. Mostly this is in reference to ebay sellers and their lame packaging. Those complainers have a point sometimes. But other times I look at it and think, "it's a plain, white envelope. That's perfectly legitimate for one card." PWE's can pack a surprising punch. Also, there's something meaningful about a PWE that other packaging doesn't possess: "Here's something that I found just for you -- one card -- and I just had to send it." I received three such PWE's recently. One of them contained the card above. It came from R.C. , who got in on Topps' online 3-D promotion before the cards sold out. The 3-D effect is almost impossible to show on a scan, and I don't do gifs, but, trust me, it's quite effective. It has an updated Sportflics...

Ever since I received some mid-1950s baseball cards as a gift from my dad's co-worker when I was a young teenager, I've equated similar generous card gifts as "falling from the sky." That's what it seemed like when those really old cards showed up in my home back then. I didn't know my dad's co-worker. He never previously expressed any interest in me or my brothers. It was completely out of the blue, cards dropping out of the clear, blue yonder. When I first started blogging -- and began receiving card packages from strangers -- I felt that feeling all over again. Cards had fallen from the sky and into my mailbox! I didn't know these people. What was happening? I've kind of gotten over that -- or grown accustomed is more like it -- to those packages. I've communicated with many of the people sending cards. I kind of do know them. Their names are right there on the envelopes. But sometimes, not very often, there is an envelope with nothi...

If you missed last night's post because of the problems with Blogger's reading list, you might want to wander down there for some quirkiness. I also added to the post at the end, by recording the total number of "balls in flight" for several sets. And I hope to add others. OK, now ... this card. I've received this particular card in well-meaning packages a few times now. I like it a lot. Who doesn't love a bank of illuminated lights? And the "thank you" on the jersey sleeve, well that could work for a variety of posts, and it just leaves a warm glow all over everything when you see it. But it's not a night card. You can see blue sky in the background. And clouds. This is a dusk card. I don't collect dusk cards. I've gotta draw the line somewhere. So are there other lines drawn in my random and arbitrary rules for night cards? I'm glad you asked because I've been getting my share of cards lately that hover on the ...

A couple of things before I get to the mystery: 1. Time is running out to vote on the biggest improvement and the biggest bust in Score's illustrious baseball trading card history. You have a matter of hours to place your vote on the sidebar. It doesn't seem like people have much of an opinion on Score, but I don't want to leave anyone out. 2. I realize I am pokey on sending out packages again. All I have to do is look in the general direction of the card desk to feel the shame envelop me. Sorry, March is a hellfire mistress. I hope things will calm down in a couple of weeks. But it's that second point that I think is contributing to this mystery. I deal with a lot of collectors. People always sending me stuff or contacting me for trades, etc. I can barely keep pace, but I do try to be friendly about it. "Friendly," though, does not eliminate "forgetful." I received a package yesterday with no return address. There was nothing on the pac...