From the Crow’s Nest
by CLINT YOUNTS
I bet this has happened to all of you: You anxiously march up to your mailbox, hoping to find your tax refund check or the latest Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue, but instead, the box is crammed full of junk mail, or as they say down in South Texas, crapola. Dozens of pieces of mail shoved tightly in the box, most of it addressed to “Current Resident,” who by the way, was not listed on my census form as an additional person living at this house.
I bet on any given day, 2/3 of the mail I receive is some sort of solicitation. Lots of offers for hot tubs have recently arrived to my mailbox, and I don’t recall asking anyone for information on bubbling tubs of hot water. I have one of those already, and every Saturday night you can find me soaking my aching bones in our washtub after a steaming bowl of Wolf Brand chili. It is so relaxing. Try it sometime.
We also get numerous fliers from insurance companies promoting health coverage for elderly folks. Why do these companies think I need more health and life insurance, and do they really consider 52 as old age? I hear 50 is today’s 30, although some days, my body screws up the math and I crawl out of bed feeling like I’m 72. How did Colonial Life get my name and address in the first place? Do you suppose they have spies planted in medical facilities, waiting to hear a doctor exclaim, “Sir, you have gout.”
I recall years ago, we used to receive fliers from Victoria’s Secret and Frederick’s of Hollywood. I didn’t so much mind getting this form of solicitation, but now I get brochures from the Scooter Store and Rascal dealers. I used to receive free samples of Trix and Cocoa Puffs in the mail; now I get a trial box of All-Bran. If I ever open my mailbox and find a free sample of a Depends, I’ll get my truck and run over my own dang mailbox.
I think the worst time of the year for unsolicited postal poop happens during election campaigns. I get fliers and letters from senators and judges I’ve never heard of, asking me to cast a vote their way. Do they think I’ll vote for them just because I find a flier with a lovely picture of some goober posing in a field of bluebonnets with some cute children who may or may not be his kids? There’re usually a few paragraphs about how this guy will turn around the economy or get criminals off the street, but I never read all that stuff. I just keep shuffling through all the other junk to see if there’s another free box of All-Bran because I feel a little sluggish today.
Why do politicians wait until a few weeks before an election to fill my mailbox with cards and letters? Why not send us updates throughout the year? Senators can advise us in advance to start saving money to help pay for health reform bills, and that circuit judge can keep us aware of which sex offenders just got back on the streets so we can lock up our children at night. Why wait until election year? Heck, I have kinfolk who does some politicking, and I don’t ever get birthday cards from him, but come November, all sorts of mail from his campaign headquarters get crammed in my mailbox. Thanks, Cuz.
On my computer, I have some program called Spam Guard that intercepts junk mail. Occasionally trash sifts through, but I quickly delete it without opening. Most of it looks like gibberish with misspelled words preventing the Guard from recognizing it’s spam. I keep getting emails asking if I want to “gain inches.” Heck, I’m 6’5” with my boots on. I’m too old and fragile for the NBA, so why would I want to gain a few inches? There’re some stupid people out there, huh?
Why can’t I install some kind of Spam guard on my mailbox? Like a scanner on the door that will detect words like “Current Resident” or “vote” and an electronic arm that would grab these letters and fling them out on the street. Plus, if the scanner reads the word “elderly,” another arm swings over and stamps “I ain’t an old fart yet” on the letter and returns to sender. I wonder if these companies and politicians know how many trees were sacrificed in order for their correspondence to get crammed into our mailboxes and subsequently into our trashcans without even being read?
I’d better end this column now before I get all perturbed and get my blood pressure up. Then I’d start getting letters from Pfizer and Merck to purchase their hypertension medications. Matter of fact, I’m heading out to my mailbox now with a trash bag to see if my AARP newsletter has come. And wouldn’t it be swell to find another box of All-Bran as a bonus?
