Acting Grown-up: Thank you cards written by men

Trying an idea for a new series, and it’s about being better at acting my age.

Valentine’s Day has just past so I was like many people in the card story in search of the perfect combination of beautiful graphics enclosing poignant Hallmark wisdom written by strangers to describe your feels towards someone so special to you. It was inside one card I did not chose that said an important phase “Thank you”. I say it all the time. I said it after I was handed the salt at dinner. I said it to a colleague who once again answered a question I have asked many time before. And when I received it, I said “no problem” which is not the way I really felt about what I had done, since it REALLY was a problem that I was interrupted to help out the requester.

I do not write Thank you cards. When I think about it, it seems so easy to do, so why the F*ck does it feel so impossible to do. To the Internet for guidance and support! I did research on Art of Manliness, Career Rocketeer, and Men’s Journal to come up with the best insight into doing it right.

Maybe you haven’t written, I mean hand written, a Thank you card since you received $20 from your Grandma on your 10^th birthday. Back then, you might have complained to your parents for days about being forced to do it , so that the next year your parents accepted you just calling Grandma. Even though I am going to explain all the wondrous reasons to write cards, we must accept that the custom is long outdated, and unnecessary since we all accept that everyone we know is too busy to take the time, so we assume that they are grateful or just maybe they will remember to mention it when we see them again. But these are exactly the reason we, as those of us seeking dandyism, should stand out from the crowd by bringing pen to paper.

To begin, we need to assess the best reasons why a card needs to be written.

• The simplest to understand case is when you receive a gift; just like the $20 from Granny.
• If you receive a favour, which is a type of a gift. This one I thought about and wondered if I would have to establish a threshold which the favour must exceed in order to initiate my search for a pen. Before I become an automatic card writer I figure that the favour must be above and beyond “just being neighbourly”. This should apply to friends, co-workers, and of course neighbours.
• Free accommodations with friends has long been the case when I have been lulled into believing a hug and offer of reciprocation is enough. I am wrong. You sleeping on your mate’s couch after a long night of drinking might be the exception from card writing, but when you and your kids finally clear out of your college friend’s apartment then that definitely warrants sending a card. If they showed you around town as well, a gift could be included in the card
•  Career Rocketeer was big on the post-interview Thank you card. I’d have to add that this also applies to very important business meetings that (could) have helped you reach your goals for promotion or financial gains.
•  If what the person did made you feel special or especially loved, then don’t hold back; tell them!

How you go about the activities of Thank you cards will come with some rules or guidance for your message and the process.

• I am a proponent for hand written although Men’s Journal was pretty clear that not everyone needs to be thanked, and not every Thank you needs to be hand written. If you do go with setting your limits then come up with what works for you. I’m going with hand written.
• Use a card or better yet use stationary. If you choose to buy a package of cards for your desk to make it easier and quicker to get the card out then do so with a style and look to suit you. Be choosey.
• Don’t wait. The importance a person can feel from your appreciation should not be delayed. Etiquette experts give acceptable periods when the Thank you is related to wedding gifts or condolences, but I’d say get the message out within the week following. Remember you’ll need to add a day or two to find a stamp.
• Try not to follow a formula in your message. Remember that after you thank a person they will understand you appreciate it and they will do more for you more often. 
• Don’t gush. Be professional. Be enthusiastic. 
• Be clear and concise.  Keep it under three sentences. If you feel you need to say more then you might be trying to say more than just Thank you. You might be in need of writing a letter about yourself more than making this about the other person and what they did for you.
• Your opener is simple: “Thank you very much for ______________.” If the gift was money, use a euphemism for it. Instead of “thank you for the dough,” say “thank you for your kindness/generosity/gift/business.”
• For closing: If the exchange (gift or favour) was at an event, write, “It was great to see you at ______”. Then say, “I hope we can get together again at ______”. Bringing up the possibilities in the future is important even when you do not see the person often.
• As for the Valediction (word for the day!) you will need to choose one that best conveys the meaning of your relationship. “Love” or even “Sincerely” does not work for the person who shoveled the sidewalk in front of your house. Consider these options: Yours Truly, Kindest Regards, Respectfully, or Best Regards.

I intended this post to focus on the Thank you card, I will still mention a part of expressing thanks and gratitude which could be the offering of a gift from you. Ask yourself, what would you like if the situation was reversed? Do you need to send a gift certificate for carpet cleaning after you brought your dog to your ex-girlfriend’s place for the weekend? Does the favour or gift you received exceed a personal limit you have that should in turn generate a gift exchange? For example, was the dinner check your colleague picked up pricey enough that you should leave a bottle of wine for them on Monday? Be aware of the relationship and the sentiment you are attempting to provide.

Finally, it is a common belief that people are not expecting hand-written notes. Email is a great tool for communication, but it is commonplace. I receive 60 to 80 emails per day; if you do too then you are unlikely to receive a Thank you email that stops you from churning though it to get to the next email. The act of touching an envelop, holding the card as you read is such a rare experience that we should give those who we appreciate a special feeling like the one they have given us.

Best Regards,
William A. Sanderson

A dandy cocktail good enough to make you consider it

For a first time, it’s a lifestyle post from me. This true story came to me while I was comparing business travel tales with a colleague about Portland. Of course, Portland is a really cool and hip city which, at the time, I was not hip nor cool when I traveled there for the first time.

The story on why I was there is not much of an interesting one since it was a week long session of marketing meetings about how well our group had been doing the past year, woven in with hours of sessions on how we were going to do better in the coming year. That is not to say that the time there was all work. Our evenings as a group were plenty of fun as we explored the easy going downtown streets with stops for unique dinners and samples of Oregon beer and wine.

The group of us was very nicely accommodated at the Hotel Vintage right downtown. It is a renovated old stone hotel done in a retro-modern style. Every appointment in the rooms were covered including the complimentary “intimacy kits” next to the soaps and shampoos in the bathroom. Each day after the meetings, our group of twelve met for cocktails in the lobby before heading to dinner.  On the last evening our group was together the lobby bar was offering a cocktail special call the Black Negrino. Myself and a couple others in the group order the drink which I found to be quite intriguing in that it met my taste by being a touch bitter. I had completely forgotten about the drink the next day as I was very hung over from all the drinking that traditionally occurs on “the last night out” with this particular (OK every) group of marketing people.

That night out with them was not my last night as I remained in town for an additional full day of meetings. Still at the same hotel in the city core on a Friday night I decided to explore the area on my own followed by a late dinner. While I was out I came across a haberdashery displaying a SALE sign in the window. In I strolled with an unusual instinct to do some shopping. It wasn’t long before I walked out confidently with two new shirts; pressed and ready to be worn to my dinner alone. I detoured back to my hotel room to change. The shirt I chose was a bird’s eye weave in Persian blue and black. Of the two shirts, it was the one that best suited my dark denim, brown belt and chestnut wingtips.

I was charged up with the confidence that wearing a new outfit will give you. When the elevator doors opened in the lobby, I heard the smooth jazz stylings of a duo of electric keyboards and female vocals. The selection was jazz standards by Sinatra and Bennett, so I slipped onto the end stool at the bar to enjoy some lobby people watching. Before the bartender turned to acknowledge me, I spotted that this lobby bar’s specialty was Negroni cocktails and the small menu sign displayed “today’s special” which as not the Black Negrino. The young, clean cut bartender made eye contact with me while wiping the wet bar top areas around me.

“Good evening. What can I get for you?” he asked in a programed tone

I asked if I could get the special cocktail from the night before. He answered my question with a puzzled look as he explained this evening was his first day back after a week off. Previously, I had not asked for the ingredients in the drink I so enjoyed, so I used descriptive words and hand motions to best illustrate the look and flavour of the beverage. He was not deterred by the moments of low value miscommunication we exchanged, but instead was inspired to discover the drink himself. It must have been my week in the company of salesmen that made me persuasive enough for him to act.

Since I was alone at the bar that moment, he excused himself to rush over to the restaurant to ask the bartender there if they could help us out. I enjoyed the music by the duo who had moved forward a few decades to be performing a rendition of Sweet Dreams by the Eurhythmics. They were not very good. Before their tune ended I was willing to drink liquid nitrogen, but to my rescue the bartender returned with the recipe.

“It has Old Tom Gin in it” he remarked and followed that with an explanation that it is a sweeter, less dry, version of a London gin. There were a few moments when his head under the bar, and the sound of rattling glassware ended with all the bottles before him; and then began his description of the drink as he measured. The drink was offered in a rocks glass with a large square block of ice surrounded by the black mixture and a long lemon peel rind. I was disappointed that this evening’s version had so much ice in it when the previous one was well balanced. That made for longer sipping quite enjoyable. I felt that he had put so much effort into the investigation and preparation that I would not complain. I raised the glass in a cheers as thanks, then swiftly drank it before the duo made their way to what was the inevitable ballad version of the Ramones.

My new shirt and I were next out on the town. It took less than twenty steps to find a super happening restaurant with a single remaining seat at the bar for me to grab something to eat. Without any encouragement the young lady on the stool next to mine recommended the house specialty, duck meatballs. She made the right choice for me as the two large meatballs served with a dark, thick, sweet sauce matched perfectly with my masterfully made Old Fashioned cocktail. The young lady’s male dinner companion arrived while I ate, and the three of us exchanged all the must see sights in Portland and Victoria. It wasn’t long before my drinks were getting to my brain, so I headed back to my hotel.

Before I headed to my room, I figured a third drink was needed so I returned to “my seat” at the Vintage lobby bar and was welcomed by the same accommodating bartender.

“You’re back. So is it the beginning of your night or the end?”

It was the end I told him so I placed an order for a White Russian which I find to be a wonderful “go nite-night drink”. When he placed the drink in front of me, I asked if he would do me the favour of writing down the recipe for the Black Negrino. He pulled off a slip of paper from the till printer. I watched as he transferred the ingredients list from his coworkers notes to the slip of paper for me. Besides the Old Tom Gin there were other ingredients I had not heard of. His note read:

Black Negrino

1 oz Old Tom gin

¾ oz Carpano Punt e Mes

½ oz Campari

¼ oz Fernet-Branca

1 long twist of lemon peel

Stir & strain over fresh ice in Old Fashioned glass. Twist and drop lemon peel.

I thanked him for the recipe while I placed it in my wallet. Realizing the time was still early, but I was tired I said good night with a cash tip and headed to the elevator a little after 10pm.

The next day I had an early flight home so I could be back by lunch for what would be some family time the rest of the weekend. That evening after I had shared all the excitement of the week in Portland with Mrs, I was describing the drink and the discussion I had had with the bartender. I told her I wanted to see if I could get the ingredients or adequate substitutes to make the drink for our friends. I retrieved my laptop from my bags and the note from my wallet.

“See honey, I have never heard of these before. What is Fernet-Branca?” I put the paper down on the counter when I began tapping in the words into Google.

“Ah..what’s this?” she asked holding the paper.

“Here, let me see.” I squinted at the messing hand writing. “Ya, Punt e Mas? I don’t know”

“No Bill, look on the other side.”

I turned the small slip of paper over to silently read “Thanks. Call lobby bar @ 11:30. Sean”. I could imagine that the look on my face told her that the hamster that usually runs my brain had fallen of its wheel and lay twitching in the bed of straw. After a silent moment he did recover,

“You know Honey. I don’t know. Maybe it was my new shirt!”

Cheers!