You know that sound, right? It’s sort of a heavy thud. It’s that distinct sound that junk mail makes when it lands on the floor after being pushed through the mail slot in your front door. That sound is a dead giveaway that, once again, the mailman has delivered a whole host of uninvited and unwanted catalogs.
I was busy working in my home office the other day when I heard that sound. Naturally, I ignored it and continued working until late in the afternoon. That was when I saw this huge pile of catalogs on the floor just inside my front door.
It was at that moment when I realized that I feel sorry for mailmen, or, as a politically correct, 21st Century person might insist, mail persons. These dedicated servants of the U.S. Postal Service make their rounds six days a week in all kinds of weather, fair and foul, hot and cold, lugging heavy bundles of mail and packages, and delivering them all right to your mailbox or front door. And yet most of us couldn’t care less.
I remember back in the day when I used to look forward to the daily mail delivery. I was eager to see if there were any personal, handwritten letters from friends and relatives. Perhaps there would be a postcard from someone I knew who was visiting some exotic locale and insisting that he wished I were there, even though I knew for certain that he wished no such thing. The mailman might have delivered photos of my extended family or pictures from friends with their families, or of their vacations, holiday celebrations, weddings, or bar mitzvahs.
Not anymore, though. With e-mail and Facebook and Twitter and text messaging, who writes letters anymore? Who sends postcards (other than my dentist reminding me that if I don’t make an appointment soon, dire things will be happening inside my mouth)?
What’s the point of sending someone a letter or a postcard when it’s so much faster and easier to send an e-mail or to update one’s Facebook page? Hell, these days it seems that people don’t even bother talking to one another on the phone...they send text messages.
But the mailman continues, six days a week, to perform his duties as he drops off all your mail right into your mailbox or at your front door. The trouble is that nearly all that he delivers is crap that you don’t need or don’t want.
We receive somewhere between three and ten catalogs just about every day. Double that in November and December. Some of them are very large, very thick, and very heavy. Oh the poor mailman.
And to add insult to injury, I take all of those catalogs directly from my mailbox and deposit them right into my recycle bin. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200!
Aside from junk mail, the only other items delivered by the mailman are bills. Oh how I don’t look forward to getting bills in the mail. So much so that I have pretty much gone all electric and most companies are sending me e-bills. Sadly, that doesn’t make paying them any less onerous.
And so the plight of the poor mailman is to continue to carry out his thankless job delivering mail to your door six days a week even though the last thing you want to get is the junk he’s dumping at your doorstep.
Remember him next Christmas. Send him a nice card and a thick, heavy catalog. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.
Or go postal on you.
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