Our post office was on the 5 PM news. It wasn't because they've done an exceptional job in the wake of Harvey's havoc, but because they've fallen behind in dealing with all the mail that bottle necked due to the flood waters, some of which are still causing major problems. There's a storm tossing rain against my window as I write.
A frustrated resident called FOX news to investigate the mail problem at the Park Row facility. People want their FEMA checks and they need them now! I understand their frustration. I also know the post office is swamped. Postal employees are people too and some couldn't leave their neighborhoods because of water and damage to their homes.
When mail trucks were finally able to deliver their haul, well, there's lots of new mail on top of old mail and not enough employees to handle it faster than the speed of sound. I know a little of what's going on because Informed Delivery let me know there's been mail on its way to me since Sept 13 and it only showed up in my box today.
I'm on friendly cupcake-and-cake-sharing footing with most of the people who serve the public from behind their wall of a postal ervice desk. I've seen them at work when they should have been home in bed. I've seen them giving service with a smile when they've been barked at and treated poorly for failings beyond their control, and yes, I've been exasperated a time or three myself, but I remember how it feels working in the service industry and I behave. So siccing FOX News on the post office is like beating a dead horse because it's slow. And her FEMA check wasn't there. And she didn't have a boatload of mail as she'd intimated. You have to send a boat load to get a boatload. But poor old post office people. All that backed up mail hadn't been sorted lady, 'cause there weren't enough hands on deck. So guess what. Yes, you guessed it. Other postal people were "bussed" in to make short shrift of the mail sorting sticky wick. And as far as I know, they're still at it.
Now here's the funny part. That little manager over there is like the little fice that barks and snarls, kicks up a lot of dirt, and never licks its owner's face . . . You know the type. She thinks being surly is a sign of power. The type is always insecure, unsure, and doesn't know any better. Well, she could have defused the unrest before anyone called out the FOX dogs, who were simple-minded enough to bite, or in such dire need of a story they jumped on the dead horse, expecting to win a derby or something. Poor post office people
Things were really super bad there the last day I visited; lines clogged the lobby with residents who weren't getting mail; they cannot get post office boxes since they're as rare as rooster teeth, but FEMA checks are like life lines. Now, I almost had a hissy fit when we lost power during the storm but common sense knows being upset won't fix anything. Besides, no one ever died from Internet withdrawal. Perhaps the story is meant to be a lesson about class in these here united states, because that's what I took from it. You'd have to see the full story to understand, but sometimes the upper class has it harder than the lower because they wall themselves off. Weather does not discriminate. But the end results are positive. The USPS promised mail delivery to home mail boxes ASAP. All's well that ends well.
On a lighter note:
Does the USPS ever reissue old postage stamps? Do you think it would be something they should consider? I like this stamp and wish we had a chance to become reacquainted with it. It's just one of many and this one happens to be on a letter from my aunt who has Alzheimer's. I'd talk to her about it just for a chat but talk of things she cannot recall upsets her too much. There was an awareness stamp issued eight years after this pretty 33 cents gem was offered.
What? We don't need another stamp 'cause they found a cure? Wait. The price of a stamp has increased a mere seven cents in how many years? Boy do we have it good. On the same hand, volume will decrease with each price increase. Right? People on Social Security aren't likely to spend a dollar per for more than birthday cards and monthly bills, poor people will pay more of their bills in-store more often than ever, and I'll cut back on international. But wait! What if I'll have learned to teleport by then? Hmm.
Oh well. Wild hairs make for wilder musings. And that's what I get for revisiting mail from my past. It's not all sad though. It's mostly fun. Did you ever send or receive one of these? Erin was crazy for carousel animals once upon a lot of time, and someone remembered.
And a stamp still cost 29 cents back them. Ooh, Express Mail it was!
Repetition is key. So let us make sure our voices are heard. Here's a great place to start. Read some of the comments and be surprised. People want more Alzheimer's stamps. I'm writing another letter before I forget.
Okay. Here's fun as promised. I uncovered these in a box from storage. They were my top sellers and gifts back in the day. Mama has a bonnet and daughter Bunny has a basket. I can't get the paper any more. I searched for it last year.
They do stand alone.
My Christmas baby's missing a bell.
She was my sweater baby. She'll be my letter baby if she co-operates.
OWM will never die from a lack of material, but the Breath of Time-Out creeps up the back of my neck often enough lately, and with an ever-growing force. I won't cave just yet--not before the next postcard campaign anyway.
Good mail was mine today. Mail went out too. Tomorrow's a good day to share. How do I know? I can just tell.
The rain stopped. No more storm. Write 'till your ink well dries up. Or you run out of words.
Be well. And make more postcards. Then mail more postcards!