Open Letter to Dishonest Postal Worker

Dear Dishonest Postal Worker,

    I received a letter yesterday that bore evidence of your petty handiwork.  The paper envelope had been well-thumbed in the center with a slit in the bottom corner.  You felt something through the paper, assessed the potential value of the free floating contents and decided to help yourself.  
    It must have been fairly easy to make that slit in the corner--with your fingernail, perhaps?--slide the object into your hand and then into your pocket. It's busy, no one noticed you tampering with the mail.  Perhaps your colleagues are too busy stealing from other envelopes or maybe doing their jobs properly and with respect.  Quickly you send the letter on its way. What's the harm, you think? Certainly none to you as there is no proof of your duplicity. Paper envelopes can tear easily. Who knows exactly where the contents dropped out?
    You are far from being the only creepy postal worker, pal.  I've traveled a bit and I've  talked to others who have traveled even more.  There is no shortage of postal workers who abuse their positions of trust with the paid correspondence of others and who just plain don't care about the rules they are supposed to work under.  They come from countries one would think have evolved  passed petty larceny (yours!) to Third World countries where we are all too quick to add  dishonesty and  lack of pride  to their blighted face of humanity.  Some people may not even be cognizant of the effect of their actions.  Travel through the back roads of some South American countries and pop into their post offices.  Look on the wall, pretty picture postcards of faraway places decorate the dreary space. Why deliver those cards when they look so nice in our office?  We can enjoy them, also.    Others know exactly what they are doing and take the opportunity to let the recipient know that they can get away with fleecing the postal customer.  Companies doing business in places like Nepal do not send important things through the mail but use private courier service.  How many aid workers and expats have  relatives who send care packages only to find  that  a postal "inspector" has redirected the goodies into their own satchels but decide to put the empty wrapper back into your box. Why the mean tease? Because they can get away with it. No one will find me. Besides, those foreigners don't need or deserve these goodies as much as I and mine do.   Yeah, Creep, you are part of a dubious brotherhood.
    So what did you get from my envelope?   A USB.  Filled with corporate secrets  you can sell to the highest bidder?  Maybe some interesting pornography? Actually,  a friend was sending me a copy of an old holiday TV show that I grew up watching every December but does not exist in Australia, "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer."  The stop-action technology is absolutely ancient but its lessons are still salient.  And it gives me joy to watch it as an adult just as it did as a child.  I hope you enjoy the show.  And maybe you will learn a lesson.

"Let's be independent together!"
© Classic Media

   What have we learned here? Well, small packets are safer than letters for very small items to be sent. But if a paper envelope is the go then it is prudent to tape the small item (ring, key, coin, USB, etc.) to a piece of cardboard. That would make it more difficult for the item to be squirreled out of a tear in the envelope by a postal thief. I suppose a small prayer to the mail gods wouldn't hurt. 
     Merry Christmas, Grinch.

Letter Writing

    I have always been a letter writer. Letters are cool. They don't jump out of the box like Jack but deliver every bit as much bang for the buck. Especially when the letter is unexpected.  I mean, we all grumble at those No.10 whites (with or without plasticine windows) but smiles burst out at the sight of an A6 even without knowing what is inside. Hmmmm, it's not my birthday or a holiday--could it be a wedding or party invitation? A letter doesn't have to be long or a brilliant piece of prose. Those 18th and 19th century folks had a whole lot more time on their hands to sit around and wax poetic to their friends than I do.  I am a stream-of-consciousness writer. Thoughts go from my head to the paper. It's up to you to fill in the blanks and make the leaps from one topic to another.  O.K. letters from me might be a little work to get through, but who doesn't like a little challenge?  

    Some of the nicest letters to get are almost nonletters.  My grandmother once wrote me a note that had a few unimportant tidbits in it and then stopped herself. "Hold it a minute" she wrote. And then, "I'm back. I made myself a BLT sandwich for lunch."  I was transported. I could see my grandmother in her kitchen frying the bacon and assembling the sandwich. I swear I could almost taste it. That humble, almost-nothing letter was a keeper.  A college mate of mine lived in the graduate student dormitory--dorms usually placed a bit out of harm's (and undergrad's noise) way.  One day he described the view out of his corner room's window to his parents: the walk path partially hidden by the wooded area right next to the narrow river that flowed through campus and right by his room.  His parents were enchanted by this mini slice of his life and cherished the letter above all the others.

    I have to admit to becoming a bit of a terrorist in my passion for this form of communication (which, by the way, is so much more a respectable Me-Me-Me outlet than Facebook, ahem.)  I'll confess to one incident: When I was working on a cruise ship in Tahiti, a new French piano player was signed on so quickly that he had no time to alert his mom about his new employment. He had barely stepped on the ship when I asked him to do a bit of translating off ship for me. He obliged and as a reward, I forced him write a postcard to his mom. I just happened to have a few picture postcards and stamps on me (doesn't everyone?) and leaned on him until he wrote it and dropped it in the mailbox.  This is silly, he protested. He was going to email his mother. Well, this guy avoided me after this  save for one single exchange.  A new sign-on has a lot of training classes with precious little free time and he didn't get to an internet cafe for over a week.  His postcard was delivered to his mother while she had friends over and it practically turned tea into a party.  The piano player admitted I was right, thanked me...and kept well away from me evermore. 

    Last week I made a vow. I would write at least one letter/note/postcard each day for a week. I was feeling a bit too self-absorbed and thought some postal therapy would work. I made sure that my mobile post office [read: work bag] was well stocked with prepaid postcards, envelopes and stamps and a few handy aerograms. Aerograms are cheaper, prepaid-postage sheets of paper that fold into their own envelopes. Very handy. And no longer sold in the U.S.  Anyway, I mailed eleven (11) pieces of personal correspondence by week's end, mostly to people I haven't written to in awhile.  I don't expect a big response rate or any response at all for that matter and that is alright.  I know what the reaction is without having to hear about it. Writing a letter is simply not hard work, it doesn't take a long time to do and should be pain-free. Let me help get you started.

     How to Write a Letter

     1. Grab a piece of paper. Any paper will do. Your shopping list, that concert program, the paper placemat from a touristy restaurant, the weekly-printed paper menu from that toney restaurant you just ate at, use the back of an office memo extolling your praises or a rejection letter from potential employer number 73, one side of a cake mix box, etc.  The options are endless. Sometimes your stationery can springboard a topic of conversation.
     2. Date it somewhere, either at the top or near your signature when you are done.
     3. Start with a greeting.  Dear Grandma,  Hi Susie!, or, if you must, How's it hanging, Dude?!
     4. Tell them why you are writing, whatever it was that motivated you.  Doesn't need to be long, just a few sentences will do. Write just the way you would speak, if that helps the flow of words to paper.
     5. Put it in an envelope. You can get creative here, also.  I have used wrapping paper, aeronautical maps, even fabric to make my own envelopes.  Adds to the excitement for the recipient.
     6. Tough part now.  Find their address. Call a mutual friend or relative to get it or look up their address on the internet.
     7.  Affix proper postage.  C'mon, you've got a stamp or two lying around somewhere.
     8.  Drop it in one of those colorful boxes on a street corner labelled "Mail" or "Post". A government employee empties the box daily and your letter is on its way.
     9.  Pat yourself on the back.  Good job. Well done!


   I guess I feel some obligement to put a good word in here for Dads.  A male friend complained recently that everyone remembers to think of saying "hi" to Mom but forgets that Dad knows how to read, also.  Clearly his two sons aren't big on writing him, either.   So, say hi to Dad, also.

Customs Detectives

     At our place, there is really only one set of "reality" shows we like to watch on TV.  Part of the appeal of these particular programs is that there is actual reality to them instead of manufactured tension in ridiculous scenarios.  Add a liking of detective shows and a splash of Dudley Dooright and these are a winner.  These are... programs that deal with customs and immigration issues. Every country seems to have one with a name like: Border Patrol, Border Security or Customs.  Video crews hang out at international airport  arrival terminals, postal sorting centers and shipping yards to watch Customs , Immigration or Quarantine officials sort through luggage, lies and letters to keep the illegal at bay.
     All these programs open with hard driving music and dramatic narrative.  People with shifty eyes and evasive answers are interrogated about visiting plans versus their visas. "I really am here just to visit my brother, no, I mean , cousin, no wait, he's my sister's husband's brother's cousin."  Bugs and worms are tapped out of  plants smuggled in a pair of socks. "How did that get in there? My mother packed this bag."   Undeclared food is gingerly handled by latex clad hands. "It's not food because  it is not cooked."  Some packages don't give the  x-ray images their declared contents ought to and others don't feel exactly the way one would expect. "Oh look, these two photographs together are as thick as cardboard and have white powder coming out the side."  All in a day's work for some and an evening's entertainment for us.

     Until a package arrived at our doorstep.  From Guardian Angel Number One.  The Customs Declaration listed some old thrift store clothing and a game.   Number One does such a good job a digging up great finds in the thrift stores back home. The items are perfect.  There is also a box...wrapped in paper...wrapped in aluminum foil...inside a plastic bag...and weighing a ton.  Cue hard driving music (which we air guitar in perfect unison.)   The box's feel is not consistent with its packaging.  It is a jigsaw puzzle (Sunday Afternoon on the Isle of La Grande Jatte.  In exquisite topiary behind the Columbus, Ohio Metropolitan Library, by the way) of 500 pieces typically in a box big enough to fit 50,000.  Yet there is no rattle or shifting of cardboard pieces and the box feels pretty solid.  Aluminum foil wrapper on a jigsaw puzzle box?  Sounds like a classic hopeful x-ray dodge.  Inside is the real goods...my favorite hair dye which is not available on this continent...sent as part of  a benign care package. 
     And this is the funny part.  It is not illegal for hair dye to be mailed out of XXX or into OZZZ. In fact, Number One has mailed it before without the slightest problem.  Oh, but the drama of it all!  Number One is a sly one to be sure.

     So now, sporting incredible hair and  new lounge capris,  I have 494 more puzzle pieces yet to put together.