Do greeting cards face a St. Valentine’s Day massacre?

Spending a rainy Saturday afternoon reminiscing over congratulatory keepsakes stored in the attic. Clutching vintage Valentines purchased at an estate sale. Sorting through all those shoeboxes of yellowing mementoes in your late great-aunt Sadie’s House Where Time Stood Still.

(Mementoes as in “reminders that great-aunt Sadie spent all your inheritance on mothballs”!)

I’m afraid future generations will encounter fewer and fewer such heart-warming experiences.