By Cathey Meyer
Props to our United States Postal System! With no assistance from me, other than my effort to remove my mailing address from a multitude of senders, the USPS graciously has notified EVERYONE of my new home address. I was slightly concerned I would miss the few remaining Christmas and other holiday cards that travel to me each year via snail mail, but at this juncture, I fear I have not discovered a hiding place safe from forwarded mail.
The clarity of why I am the family mail depository is unclear. Two addresses ago, I received mail for my Dad (since deceased four years ago) which allowed mail for my Mother (since deceased eight years ago) to be delivered to me. The after-life mail was never important as the renewal-rip-off for extended car warranties were simply trashed; the consolidate your future lottery payments needed a winning ticket and amputee catalogues had the right name, just the wrong recipient as both parents departed with all their original parts.
More recently, I collected Uncle Bob’s (R.I.P. three years ago) mail which I picked up at his home address while he was still chasing nurses at the assisted living address. Aunt Jeanette lived at the same assisted living, but she chased memories in another wing. I picked up her mail too. After Uncle Bob flew the coop, I moved Aunt Jeanette to a facility closer to my home which required a change of address for a massive list of government agencies. The SSI, DOD, Air Force, Medicare, TriCare, IDon’tCare and all the other support systems of the eighth decade survival all want immediate snail mail contact. I dutifully complied and then immediately created online accounts to avoid any further government contact. That was one address back.
Yesterday’s mail brought this intrusive letter not from one, not two but from all the government agencies. I failed to provide a forwarding address because unlike other elements in my life, I am fully on the cyber-board trip when dealing with the government and their endless regulations. They all informed me the USPS had informed them I was no longer receiving mail at my previous address. They wanted to know if the current address on their intrusive letter was the new mailing address for hard-copy contact. WHAT? The company that cannot balance a budget because they only raise their rates .04 cents every two years has time to mettle in my business and keep the feds on my tail?
Before I can get too wound up with my government connections, my mailbox is filling faster than I can empty it. Somehow, Aunt Jeanette is now on several catalogue lists. Even I thought catalogues had gone by the way of the landline phone. Jeanette can order delicates, Uggs, and home accessories from Sundance. Either she has a secret life at the assisted living or some paper recycler has time on their mailing labels. Uncle Bob lives on through Guns ‘n Amo,
a variety of auto insurance options and more credit card deals than numbers on the card. Buy one get one coupons arrive weekly for Beds and Baths and Things Beyond and Working Your Body Before the Body Works You. I know for a fact Aunt Jeanette did not shop at these shoppes so how they think a wheelchaired, driver’s license expired, selective memory octogenarian would travel to their strip mall location for $3.00 off her body lotion purchase is beyond me.
Uncle Bob received at $2.37 royalty payment forwarded to my address from a company that three years ago told me I was too far removed from the genetic chain to receive his royalty benefits. I ignored their request for proof of earth departure. The time and effort did not match the annual above payout. From his address to my old address to the new address comes the check that can no longer be cashed or deposited but can be forwarded even when it clearly states on the envelope DO NOT FORWARD.
At my last address, the USPS often confused my 1221 condo with my upstairs neighbors 2112. Easy to do as our mail trail was so similar: Theirs was mostly stamped PAST DUE and mine was mostly stamped CREDIT UPGRADE. Then there is the condo four streets over. I got their 1221 mail of stock reports, multiple foreign bank statements and other money laundering evidence that really should have been interneted.
I suppose the USPS is like any profession. There are those who overwork to accommodate the innocent. And there are those who underwork because it is just easier to not make an effort. At any rate, my thanks to the USPS for their efforts in allowing my mail to always find its way home.