Remember when checking the mailbox was the highlight of your day? Back in the 1970s, before emails and instant everything, the arrival of the postal carrier could transform an ordinary afternoon into something magical. Whether you were eight or eighteen, certain packages and envelopes had the power to make your heart skip a beat and turn the rest of your day into an adventure.
1. Columbia House Record Club Selections
Nothing compared to that hefty box arriving with your monthly Columbia House selections inside. You’d carefully chosen your albums from that tiny catalog print, and now here they were – sometimes four or five records at once, each one a gateway to hours of musical discovery. The anticipation of peeling off that cardboard shipping material and seeing which album would be your first spin was almost unbearable.
The smell of fresh vinyl and the crisp corners of album covers made everything feel official and important. You’d spread them out on your bedroom floor like treasure, reading every liner note and studying every photograph until you practically had them memorized. Even if one of your picks turned out to be a dud, the sheer volume of new music made you feel like the luckiest kid on the block.
2. Sears Wish Book Catalog
The arrival of the Sears Christmas Wish Book was basically Christmas morning in October. That thick, colorful catalog would land on your doorstep with a satisfying thud, and suddenly every family member had their own personal shopping bible for the next two months. You’d immediately flip to the toy section, dog-earing pages and circling items with the intensity of a military strategist.
Hours would disappear as you planned elaborate Christmas morning scenarios around those glossy photographs. The camping gear, the power tools, the kitchen appliances – everything looked so perfect and attainable within those pages. Even Mom would get excited, planning out new curtains for the living room or a fancy new vacuum cleaner that promised to make housework a breeze.
3. TV Guide Magazine
Every Thursday, like clockwork, TV Guide would appear in your mailbox, and suddenly you held the key to the entire week’s entertainment. You’d immediately turn to the movie listings to see what was playing on the Late Show, marking the good ones with a pen so you wouldn’t forget. The crossword puzzle on the back would keep Dad busy for at least an hour, and Mom would clip out the recipes they sometimes included.
Before DVRs and streaming services, TV Guide was your lifeline to making sure you never missed your favorite shows. You’d study those tiny listings like they contained state secrets, planning your entire week around when “The Brady Bunch” reruns were airing. The little blurbs about upcoming episodes could make or break your week – especially if they hinted at a very special episode of your favorite drama.
4. National Geographic Magazine
When that distinctive yellow border appeared through your mailbox slot, you knew you were about to take a journey around the world without leaving your living room. National Geographic didn’t just arrive – it transported you to places so exotic and beautiful that they seemed almost fictional. The photography was so vivid and crisp that you could almost smell the jungle or feel the desert sand.
Every issue was like receiving a college course in the mail, complete with maps you’d carefully tear out and tape to your bedroom wall. Your parents probably subscribed for educational purposes, but you devoured every word about lost civilizations and underwater caves. Those magazines had a way of making you feel worldly and sophisticated, like you were part of some exclusive club of armchair explorers.
5. Sea Monkeys and X-Ray Specs from Comic Book Ads
Nothing captured the imagination quite like those tiny ads in the back of comic books, and when your Sea Monkeys or X-Ray Specs finally arrived after what felt like months of waiting, Christmas had nothing on that moment. The plain manila envelope gave no hint of the wonders supposedly contained inside, making the anticipation almost unbearable. You’d carefully tear it open, expecting magic and usually finding something far more humble than advertised.
But somehow, even when the X-Ray Specs turned out to be cardboard with feathers inside, the disappointment was mixed with a strange satisfaction. You’d been part of something – you’d taken a chance, sent away your allowance money, and participated in the grand tradition of mail-order dreams. Those little failures taught you about advertising, expectations, and the difference between dreams and reality, all for the bargain price of $1.98 plus shipping.
6. Handwritten Letters from Friends and Family
In an era when long-distance phone calls cost a fortune and your grandmother lived three states away, a handwritten letter was like receiving a warm hug through the mail. You’d recognize the handwriting immediately – Aunt Sally’s careful cursive or your college buddy’s messy scrawl – and suddenly your day had a focal point. The time someone took to sit down, think about you, and put pen to paper felt like the purest form of love.
Reading those letters was a ritual in itself, often saved for a quiet moment when you could really savor every word. You’d read between the lines, looking for hints about how they were really doing, and you’d start composing your response in your head before you even finished reading. Those letters created connections across miles and time zones in a way that felt both intimate and permanent.
7. Life Magazine
When Life Magazine showed up in your mailbox, you weren’t just getting a magazine – you were getting a front-row seat to history in the making. Those oversized pages filled with stunning black-and-white photography could transport you to Vietnam, Woodstock, or the surface of the moon, all in the span of a single afternoon. The magazine had a weight and importance that made you feel like you were holding something significant.
Every issue was a time capsule, capturing moments that would later define the entire decade. You’d spread it out on the coffee table, and the whole family would gather around, discussing the pictures and articles late into the evening. Life Magazine made you feel connected to the bigger world beyond your neighborhood, like you were a witness to the important events shaping your generation.
8. Football and Baseball Cards in Wax Packs
The distinctive sound of tearing open a pack of Topps baseball cards was like opening a present five times a week during baseball season. You’d carefully examine each card for condition, checking corners and edges with the intensity of a jeweler examining diamonds, hoping against hope that you’d found that rookie card that would make you rich someday. The pink stick of gum inside was terrible – hard as a rock and tasting vaguely of cardboard – but somehow it was an essential part of the experience.
Trading cards weren’t just collectibles; they were social currency that could make or break playground friendships and create complex economic systems in school cafeterias. You’d carry your most prized cards in your back pocket, ready to make deals or show off your latest acquisitions to anyone who would listen. Those cards taught you about statistics, geography, and basic economics, all while fueling dreams of someday meeting your heroes in person.
9. Premium Offers from Cereal Boxes
Nothing tested a kid’s patience quite like waiting six to eight weeks for that decoder ring or submarine periscope you’d sent away for with cereal box tops and a quarter taped to an index card. The offer seemed so simple when you read it on the back of your Cheerios box, but the waiting period felt like an eternity to a ten-year-old who wanted instant gratification. When that small package finally arrived, usually in a plain envelope that gave no hint of the treasure inside, it was like Christmas morning compressed into a single moment.
Those premiums rarely lived up to their promises – the “authentic frontier rifle” was usually a plastic toy that barely resembled a weapon, and the “mysterious treasure map” was just a piece of paper with some creative artwork. But the disappointment was often overshadowed by the thrill of having participated in something, of having sent your allowance money into the void and received something tangible in return. Those experiences taught valuable lessons about advertising, expectations, and the difference between marketing promises and reality.
10. Publisher’s Clearing House Sweepstakes Entry
When that oversized envelope from Publisher’s Clearing House appeared in your mailbox, suddenly winning a million dollars seemed not just possible, but practically inevitable. You’d spend hours carefully peeling off stickers and placing them in exactly the right spots, convinced that your attention to detail would be the deciding factor. The whole family would gather around the kitchen table, treating the entry process with the seriousness of filing tax returns.
The accompanying magazines – whether you wanted them or not – felt like a bonus prize for simply entering the contest. You’d imagine Ed McMahon showing up at your door with balloons and a giant check, planning exactly how you’d spend your newfound fortune. Even though you never won, the act of entering made you feel like anything was possible, and that optimism could carry you through weeks of ordinary days.
11. Scholastic Book Club Order Forms and Deliveries
Few things in elementary school were more exciting than when your teacher announced that Scholastic book orders had arrived. You’d been waiting weeks since you filled out that newsprint order form, carefully choosing your books with the same intensity you’d later apply to buying a car. The day they arrived was better than any holiday, turning your classroom into a mini bookstore where dreams came true for under five dollars.
Unwrapping your personal stack of brand-new books felt like Christmas morning, even if it happened in the middle of March. The smell of fresh paper and ink, the satisfaction of cracking open a spine for the first time, the excitement of having something that was entirely yours – it all combined to create pure joy. Those books would become your companions for weeks, read and reread until the covers were soft from handling and every page was memorized.
12. Postcards from Exotic Vacation Destinations
Before social media made every vacation a public event, postcards were the primary way people shared their travel adventures with folks back home. Receiving a postcard from someone’s trip to Florida, California, or anywhere that seemed impossibly glamorous was like getting a tiny window into a more exciting world. The front would feature some impossibly blue ocean or towering mountain range, while the back contained just enough details to make you wildly jealous.
Those postcards had a way of making even the most mundane trips sound absolutely magical. Aunt Ruth’s weekend in Atlantic City became an exotic adventure, complete with casino glamour and boardwalk romance, all compressed into a few sentences on the back of a glossy card. You’d prop them up on your dresser or tape them to your mirror, creating a gallery of places you promised yourself you’d visit someday when you were old enough to have your own adventures.
The magic of mail in the 1970s wasn’t just about what arrived – it was about the anticipation, the surprise, and the sense that the outside world was reaching directly into your everyday life to deliver something special. In our age of instant everything, there’s something beautifully quaint about a time when happiness could arrive once a day, Monday through Saturday, carried by a person in a uniform who knew your name. Those daily trips to the mailbox taught us patience, hope, and the simple joy of receiving something unexpected that could transform an ordinary day into something memorable.
This story 12 Things That Came in the Mail in the 1970s That Made the Whole Day Feel Special was first published on Takes Me Back.
