And, since I'm showing off, anyway, I might as well offer up this other postal package production, too:
rent checks of which I speak (though on rare occasions they do surprise me). No, no. I'm talking about unlocking my Post Office box and finding two music Cds, neither one bearing any postage!
After my eyes opened wide, and my mouth said wow, I discovered they came from the far side-- the far side of my box, poked into it by the only person authorized to do so!
The Post Master, as it turns out, likes to call himself the Johnny Appleseed of Oldies Cds! (Little did I know this when we chatted about our [mutual) high school years in the sixties!) Now I've got a growing pile of bop-bop-bop and sha-na-na-na. I've got the Beatles and the Beach Boys and the Monkees. I've got the History of Rock N' Roll. I've got over a dozen of these Cds, received at random in my mail box!
(And they're still coming! One, two at a time. Every other day or so. Do the math!)
Which leads me to this: It's serendipitous!
My former car (much as I loved it), did not have a working Cd player.
All music poured forth via the radio. (That old-timey cassette-player sat willingly by).
When I wrecked my previous means of transportation, I had to find an update, of course.
And, as (good) luck would have it, I ended up with a slightly-used and reasonably-priced Toyota Prius (pictured here, sitting demurely on the used-car lot). And can you believe it, Viewer Dear, it's endowed with a Cd-player that accepts not one, not two, not three, but FOUR Cd's at a time!
The first time I drove this car to the post office, first gift of Cd's in my mailbox!
What did I tell you. Serendipity!
Okay, now, we're at the Post Office again, Dear Viewer. (No, I don't live there.)
It's the first day of spring, and it's the midday hour, when the postal window is closed and the Post Master is off eating his lunch somewhere (I'm only assuming). When I hopped from my car, I spotted this Master Hopper sitting nearby, nearly motionless in the grass. I greeted him so warmly, and wished him a happy spring, but there was no response. He hardly moved a muscle!
I went into the P.O., collected a Neil Diamond Cd and two bills from my mail box, came back outside and urged Master Hopper to be on his way. "Live your life!" I counseled him. "Time's a'wasting!"
I loitered there a while, waiting for him to run.
But he didn't.
So I did.
(more Salmagundi later,