If you reside here in the US of A you no doubt received information pertaining to mail carrier changes due to “rapidly declining mail volume.” I was a bit saddened by that last part. This is not the first setback of the US Postal Office, mind you. August 17, 1859, the postal service took to the skies – in a hot air balloon. Poor ol’ John Wise was sent aloft in Lafayette, IN – with some 100 letters to be delivered in New York – only to make it 27 miles. Today’s issues, however, seem more ominous.
Still, I will hope.
I will hope for a day when we grow tired of the impersonal. When we long to take the time to sit down and write a bit of ourselves in a letter, to be delivered to one we love – and that loved one will be delighted at the gesture. And I will keep that hope alive by writing letters of my own …
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I guess I'm tainted. I hate, hate, hate most mailmen, and I regret to say that I'm glad there will be less of them.
Sadly, I didn’t even think about mailmen while writing this piece. I was thinking about the long-lost art of letter writing. That’s probably not a good sign … sigh.