Well, I hear that mailman coming, he’s rolling around the bend, and I ain’t seen a letter, since 2010. That’s because the mail doesn’t deliver personalized letters and cards like it once did. I miss that. That’s not the mail carrier’s fault, but the mail sender’s fault.
I’m not necessarily proud of this, but I must admit, I still get a little excited when I hear the mail truck coming up the street. I’m not the only one. Cocoa, our slightly overweight former “miniature” dachshund, whom we nicknamed Fifteen, does too. She gets excited because she knows I’m going to let her walk with me to the mailbox. Actually, she doesn’t care a thing in the world about the mail, unless someone happened to send us something to eat. She just likes to get out of the house, soak up a little sunshine, if there is any, and sniff who has trespassed through her yard since the last time she sniffed who trespassed through her yard.
I, on the other hand, am slightly excited about what’s in the box. For the life of me I can’t tell you why, because these days it’s rarely ever anything good or personal. Some of it doesn’t even have my name on it, but is addressed to “Occupant,” “Resident” or “Resident Sucker.” If it does have my name on it, someone either wants to sell me something, or wants me to pay for something they’ve already sold me.
Back in the old days, the mailman brought fun things. Besides the personal letters or cards, he left cool stuff like Grit Magazine or The Weekly Reader. He also brought the Sears or J.C. Penney catalog. Those things were so big the mailman could barely squeeze them inside the box. It was trying to put a school bus inside a lunch box! They were filled with all kinds of things I knew I couldn’t have, but dreamt about anyway.
Children these days have no interest in the mail…at least not the snail mail. Why would they, no one sends them anything by mail anymore anyway. From what I understand, they aren’t even interested in email anymore. They’ve moved on to faster and better means of communication and entertainment…things like texting, YouTube or Instagram. But you see, back when I was growing up, in a small town like mine, there wasn’t much to do. If someone said YouTube, we thought they wanted us to ride an innertube. We never surfed on an internet. Life moved at a different pace. To even call it a “pace” might have been a bit of a stretch. Especially in the summertime, when school was out, the mail delivery may have been the most excitement of the day. After Captain Kangaroo went off for the day, if the fish weren’t biting, it was either cut the grass, help Mama in her 100-acre garden or go get the mail.
Granted, when I hear that mail truck coming, it’s not the quite the same as when Johnny sang, “I hear that train a coming,” but then, I’m not stuck in Folsom Prison either. Still, there is that slight sense of anticipation that some big surprise might be in the mail today. Well, no, it’s not as exciting as hearing the ice cream truck coming. The mail truck doesn’t play music or ring bells. The only sound it makes it the hum of the engine when it starts and stops at each mailbox. But, sometimes, even the small things on some days can bring a little pleasure…even if it is a decreased electric bill…but, then there is Amazon!
Bill King can be reached at bkpreach@yahoo.com or 334-728-5514 (office).
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