It was an emotional time when the decision was made to replace our aging mailbox. You see it came to us in a very special way. I forget how many years but it must have been fifteen or twenty years ago that a speeding snowplow smashed into our original mailbox and hurled it bent and broken into the snow- filled ditch.
I saw the wreckage as I was on my way to work one morning and muttered, “Another job for the job jar. G-r-r-r” As a school teacher I didn’t need another job as school teaching kept me pretty darn busy the way it was.
But what a pleasant surprise when I returned home that evening. The careless snowplow driver had returned later in the day and installed, free of charge, a shiny black, undented mailbox! It was a beauty.
That same mailbox has served us faithfully all these years. But now it is dented and filled with rust. Then the final blow took place a few days ago which sealed that once beautiful mailbox’s doom. One of the door hinges rusted off so when the door was opened it fell and hung cockeyed by the remaining hinge.
Every time I went to get the mail the floundering door drove me crazy. If the wind was strong the door would do the twist as the mail was retrieved from the box. Sometimes I actually imagined Elvis singing in my head as I attempted to re-grasp that twisting door. If I was bothered by the dangling door think how the mailman felt. He would have to capture that twisting door and then carefully shut it so the clasp on top of the door was secured to the mailbox.
Yesterday I replaced the aging box with another black, shiny, undented beauty. This one I had to pay for however. But it was worth it as my blood pressure and the mailman’s blood pressure would not sky- rocket as we tried to open and close the one hinged door.
The mailbox incident reminded me of the emotions that it emitted. Sadness and anger when the original mailbox was destroyed. The joy that resulted when the snowplow driver replaced the damaged one and now the nostalgia conjured up as I’ve had to replace the old mailbox.
You know as I think about it mailboxes are responsible for a lot of emotions in our lives. Junk mail causes me endless frustrations. I expectantly remove the fist full of envelopes from the mailbox and as I flip through them I’m hoping for an envelope addressed with the human hand and containing an official stamp on the envelope’s corner. Day after day I am disappointed.
Now junk mail people are getting wise to my need of seeing an envelope addressed with the human hand and they are sending out junk mail disguised with human-like writing. I almost fall for it but then I look at the fake stamp and I’m on to their craftiness.
Were it not for wedding invitations, graduation announcements and funeral thank you notes I don’t think I would be able to muster up enough energy to go get the mail. Even if the mailbox is black, shiny, dent-free and new!
Guilt is another emotion that our mailbox oozes with. Have you ever received those letters containing pennies, nickels and stamps and they are begging for contributions for very worthy causes? A psychologist has told them that the coins and stamps will guilt the receiver into sending in a donation.
It works for me sometimes but other times I have already sent donations to other worthy causes and I’m broke. I can’t send them a donation. So what do I do with the attached coins and stamps. I use them and then feel guilty for days to come. π
The same thing can be said for personal address labels. I had enough address labels that one Christmas I thought of sending a Christmas card to everyone in Wheaton, population 1650, just to use some of them up! That idea quickly evaporated however when I figured in the cost of cards and stamps. π
Mailboxes can produce shock and panic also. Like the time I opened my Discover card bill to discover someone had used it to purchase an online dating service. Who ever they were I hope they had a wonderful experience and thank them for not buying other really expensive things.
Another shock and panic occurs when the credit card reveals the $250 charge you made earlier in the month that you had forgotten about. It’s a short-termed shock and panic but a shock and panic none the less.
My mailbox can also cause me to feel sad for trees. Think of all the junk mail that contains free birthday cards, sympathy cards, Easter cards, and Christmas cards often with a variety of free stickers designed to decorate envelopes. We won’t live long enough to use them all. I vote we leave them in their tree form. What a forest we would have!
Well I’ve had a chance to vent now and I’m feeling much better. But if you read this blog and want to really lift my spirits my address is 6433 State Highway #27, Wheaton, MN 56296. Send me a postcard, letter or anything else with a real stamp on it and my address written in your handwriting.
Hey, if this personal letter thing really catches on I may have to take down my shiny, black, dent-free mailbox and replace it with the jumbo sized mailbox! π
Oh, and one more thing. Anyone interested in purchasing a rusty, dented mailbox with a broken door send me a note toΒ the address listed above. Actually a little baling wire would make that door work just like new. Duct tape? Probably not so much.
Until next time.