I suppose this
story falls into the category of righteous indignation. Last Monday I went to
the post office in Burk’s Falls to send in my U.S. tax return, and because I
was mailing it from Canada, the IRS recommended I send it by some express
service in order to guarantee timely delivery. Everyone knows I’m “thrifty”, so
I asked the lady at the desk if a week was enough time to send the package via
regular mail. She could not guarantee that in a week’s time my return would
arrive in Austin Texas, so I took the rubber band off and sent it by Express Post.
Next year my U.S. accountant will be E-filing, and I’ll save twenty bucks, that
is if that new heart bleed, or heart worm, or whatever-it’s-called computer
virus doesn’t invade my computer and steal all my information, costing me my
life’s savings. Still, I am beginning to wonder if the postal service has not
finally outlived its usefulness. I’d heard the Canadian postage rates were
going up in March, so while at the post office, I inquired as to how much. One
would figure a few cents, right? Hah! It now costs $1.20 to send a post card or letter to the United States from
Canada, up from what I considered to be an outrageous $1.10. That seems like a
big increase to me, but then I was told that it will now cost eighty-five cents to send a letter
within Canada, a hike of twenty cents.
AND, Canada Post is now talking about cutting back services. WTF! Almost one dollar for the luxury of having my
personal correspondence rerouted to Pago Pago. That actually happened to me
once – I had a letter I mailed in Canada, returned to me after almost 6 months,
and one of the several postmarks was American Samoa. Apart from signing the
listing agreement and the sale contract, we essentially sold our condo down in
Florida by fax and email, and those correspondences were almost instantaneous. I
am still old fashioned enough to appreciate receiving a hand written letter or
post card, although I’m sure most of my friends can’t say the same about a
letter from me. My hand writing is illegible. Code breakers could not read my
handwriting. I say send written correspondences by fax or email, and send
packages by any number of private carriers who clearly understand the laws of
competition better than our governments. Today I sent two important letters
out, one to Toronto and one to Buffalo, and both of them are covered with five
cent stamps to accommodate these exorbitant hikes. Postal rate hikes are
annoying, but 30% hikes are bordering on absurd. Thank you Canada Post, may I
have another.
In
entertainment news, satirist Stephen Colbert will be taking over as host of the
CBS 11:30 PM late night slot, replacing the retiring David Letterman in 2015. I
always preferred Letterman over Leno, but now it’s time to usher in the new
generation. Jimmy Fallon seems to have hit the ground running since replacing
Jay Leno, and now former SNL head writer Seth Meyers has taken over Fallon’s
old 12:30 AM spot. I think Seth has got some lernin’ to do. By the way, does
anyone speak the King’s English anymore? I never feel as old as I do when I
watch and listen to contemporary news anchors and talk show hosts. I go, like,
it’s not like that big of a deal, and like, I understand that the majority of
listeners are probably in their like twenties or thirties, but OMG, like,
really? Sometimes Anderson Cooper sounds as
if he was a valley girl, and he giggles as if he was a little school kid.
Walter Cronkite never giggled. Same with Fallon and Meyers; while they speak in
the vernacular of the young, this does not bode well for the future of
communication. The kids these days, where’s my Metamucil, dammit?
Final
notes. After a hopeful week in the search for Malaysian Airlines Flight 370,
searchers still have yet to locate the missing plane, and time is running out.
Soon there will be no more locatable “pings.” I watched what I believe was the last game the
Toronto Maple Leafs will play this year, as they became the fire hydrant to Ottawa’s
lifted leg. As usual, after a hopeful start to the season, the Leafs did what they
have done for the last forty years; they broke our hearts, again. It baffles
me, it wounds me to the core, and since self-medication, which is the coping
mechanism for so many other Leafs fans, is no longer an option for me, I must
find some other way to purge my growing rage. Music therapy helps. Played the
Burk’s Falls Tavern again last Friday night for coffee house night and I think
my anemic performing skills are beginning to blossom. This time, no one threw any vegetables at me, and that was after
a whopping four original songs. I am using my Leafs rage to help me grow as an
artist. Spring has descended upon the Great White North like a screaming harpy,
and our property is now a muddy, sloppy mess. There is still a lot of snow to
melt, and while many of the lakes have been drawn down to compensate, flooding
is still a very real threat along local waterways. Residents of nearby Huntsville
are paying close attention, and no one wants a repeat of last year’s
destructive floods. This just in: “Everything’s gonna be awesome, chill out
people, it’s like, not that big of a deal.” So I go, "What Ever."
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Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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