Down the Hall on Your Left

This site is a blog about what has been coasting through my consciousness lately. The things I post will be reflections that I see of the world around me. You may not agree with me or like what I say. In either case – you’ll get over it and I can live with it if it makes you unhappy. Please feel free to leave comments if you wish . All postings are: copyright 2014 – 2018

Archive for the category “Mail”

It’s That Time Of Year

IT’S GETTING COLD OUT THERE. The leaves have fallen. That can only mean one thing: It’s Catalogue Season!

This time of year the Mail carriers get a real workout. Their backs have to be up to the task of carrying several pounds of catalogues to every house on their routes. The eyes of Chiropractors all over the country are lighting up in gleeful anticipation. I fear the day that Amazon decides to publish a catalogue.

For the last few weeks our mailbox has been filled to overflowing with slick paper catalogues from places all over them map. They send ‘em out and I dump ‘em into the recycling bin. I suspect that the only profit goes to the printers and to the models who pose wearing the ugliest fashions ever made. I don’t fall into any of those categories. I’m just a Consumer.

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It Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time

WE ALL MAKE MISTAKES. Some are pretty obvious from the outset. With others it can take some time before we realize that we have stuck our foot in it. I have been collecting a few examples of some wildly errant boo-boos that deserve retelling.

One of my favorites dates from 1959. The fine folks in Ottawa, Ontario were gathered to celebrate the grand opening of a new modern terminal at the Canadian Capital’s Airport. Everyone was having a great time…until it all fell apart.

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I Am The Law!

 

BRACE YOURSELF, WORLD! I HAVE BEEN CALLED FOR JURY DUTY.

The notice came in the mail a few days ago. It looks like I am going to be under the judicial thumb for the month of September. I’m cool with that as long as it doesn’t conflict with my scheduled Colonoscopy.

There was a two page questionnaire I had to fill out and mail back. I guess it was designed to determine if I might be a good juror or was I some sort of freakin’ lunatic. I’ll find how I did once I get to the courthouse.

I have never been on a jury. I have been called four or five times, but I guess there is something about me that makes Rusty The Bailiff always show me the way out of the building.

It’s not like I’m standing up in the courtroom screaming, “Hang ‘em! Hang ‘em all!” and the Judge is screaming back at me, “Sit down, Mr. Kraft! This is Traffic Court.”

There must be a glint in my eye or something in my non-stop mumbling that gives them pause. They ask me a question, I answer it and everybody wearing a suit stands up and points to the door.

Some people are just so touchy.

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Down, Boy! Down!

SOMEONE KINDLY INFORMED ME this morning that this month has been designated “National Dog Bite Prevention Month.”

Who knew? Nobody told me about it until today. More importantly, I’d like to know if anybody bothered to inform the dogs of the world about this.

I have never been bitten by a dog – other than the playful nips of puppies. To be truthful, I’ve suffered more bites from humans than I ever have from animals. I have been scratched by dogs, but that happened while the dogs were showing me how glad they were to see me. “

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Errands Must Be Run

BUSY DAY TODAY. I have a list of errands that sort of stacked up while we were down in Texas dodging hurricanes. Some things can only be put off for so long and then they will stand up on their hind legs and demand attention.

I needed to write a couple of checks (I know, I’m the only person in the Western Hemisphere who still writes checks.) and then I needed to go to the bank to deposit a couple of other checks that were in our bundle of delayed mail. High finance on a small scale.

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Throwback Thursday from July 2015 – Let’s Play, “Spot The Flaw In This!”

Throwback Thursday from July 2015

Let’s Play, “Spot The Flaw In This!”

inverted JennyABOUT EVERY SIX MONTHS or so we get a piece of mail from the Postal Service touting their “Stamps by Mail” service.

This Postal Service program supposedly can save us time and gasoline by sending postage stamps directly to our mailbox on the front porch. There would be no need for us to get out of our jammies and drive all the way (four blocks) to the Post Office to buy stamps.

OK, I get the concept, but with the advent of the internet there are now millions of people paying their bills online, communicating with friends and family online, and sending birthday cards, etc. online. Currently I write an average of two checks per month that require me to use postage stamps.

I’d wager that since the demise of the Columbia Record Club (look it up) that the number of stamp bearing mail items has diminished greatly. Almost all of the mail that we get is catalogs and other pointless junk mail – and virtually all of that is metered mail with no stamps at all.

We still get the “Stamps by Mail” advertising thing, but let me tell you the real reason we don’t bother signing up.

About a year ago an old friend told me this story and I believe him.

He runs a small business and thought that the “Stamps by Mail” thing might be a good time saver for him. So- he signed up and anxiously awaited the delivery of his first load of postage stamps from Benjamin Franklin’s favorite government service.

A week or so later when my friend toddled out to his mailbox he discovered one of those little pink slips of paper telling him that there was a parcel waiting for him to pick up down at the Post Office.

He told me that this was not unusual, so he got out of his jammies, put on some adult clothing and fired up his car to go get his parcel.

Of course, when he got there he had to wait in line behind the usual collection of people sending sweaters to their grandchildren in Florida and manuscripts off to publishers who will never read them or will just slide them under a table leg to take care of that annoying wobble.

He had to wait about fifteen minutes to get to the head of the line. He presented the pink slip to the clerk who then disappeared into “The Back” for another five minutes. When the Postal Service clerk returned he handed my friend an envelope which would have easily fit inside the mailbox at his home. He took the envelope over to the empty counter out by the P.O. Boxes and tore it open. Inside was another envelope proudly announcing that it contained his delivery of “Stamps by Mail!”

What a time saver.

When my friend first told me about this I too was skeptical. It was just too – too – Post Office for even the Post Office to do.

He swears that it is a true story and as time passes and I read of other Masterpieces of Governmental Ineptitude my skepticism fades into a head-shaking “I’m surprised they didn’t send it to him “postage due.”

I Need A Time-Out

AS DAYS GO TODAY STARTED OUT LOOKING TO BE A GOOD ONE. The rains had stopped, the car got a free washing courtesy of “God’s Car Wash”, and I think I saw the sun trying to peek through the clouds.

According to the Weather Bunny on the TV today is supposed to be a dry day. I’m glad because later I’ll have to drag the recycling bin down to the curb for pickup later today.

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Making Out My Christmas List

catalog1WHILE THIS IS THE HOLIDAY SEASON, a time of Joy and Happiness, there is one thing that always mars that sense of glee. Seeing our USPS Letter Carrier (aka The Mailman) lumbering up the street. This time of the year he is toting a bag filled with tons of Christmas Catalogs.

Yesterday we found six different catalogs and a couple of bills stuffed into our mailbox like a blivet. Look it up. Some of the catalogs were from companies we had never heard of before.

Only one item missed being put immediately into the recycling bin and that was because it was one of those catalogs that offered items that have no good reason for even existing.

Answer me this…

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Getting An Oil Change – Not At Grease Monkey

Jag1I LIKE CARS, BUT I CAN’T BUILD THEM. I can’t repair them. I can’t even sell them. I just like driving them and I do appreciate them as an Art Form. The Jaguar XKE was once exhibited at the New York Museum of Modern Art.

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Toyota Must Love Me After All

car1ABOUT SIX OR EIGHT MONTHS AGO I began getting snail mail, E-mail, and text messages from my local Toyota dealer telling me it was time to bring in our car for its 25,000 mile check-up. Because the car had only about 16,000 miles on it at the time I really didn’t pay much attention to their communications.

They didn’t like that.

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Returning

luggage_large_1xAs you read this we should, and I emphasize “Should,” be home in Terre Haute (That’s French for, “You have a ton of junk mail waiting for you.”) and dealing with the stresses and strains of jet-lag and culture shock. Hopefully our luggage has arrived with us, but I always feel a bit cynical about that.

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The Annual “Down The Hall” Family Update

IT’S TIME AGAIN FOR OUR ANNUAL “DOWN THE HALL” FAMILY UPDATE!

This has been a busy year for the whole “Down The Hall” Family. As you can see by this first picture we are all heavily armed now – just in case (wink, wink!)Bad Christmas Family-Photos-Santa-Guns

This year the older kids finally got jobs that didn’t involve wearing paper hats. Little Junior is now working for the State of Indiana. He is an “Automotive Identification Engineer,” making license plates at a state facility near Plainfield. We are so proud.Indiana Prison

His baby sister, Trixie, has gone far afield for an internship in Nevada. She’s always been interested in sports and she tells us about all the NBA players she has met.

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Let’s Play, “Spot The Flaw In This!”

inverted JennyABOUT EVERY SIX MONTHS or so we get a piece of mail from the Postal Service touting their “Stamps by Mail” service.

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