Well, neither do I. Not GOOD mail. Not often. Actually, pretty much the only good mail I get is from my grandmother in Wales. She doesn't have a computer, so if I want to communicate with her, and she with me, we depend on the US Postmaster and the Royal Mail.
The rest of the mail is BAD mail. Bills. Ads. Circulars. Catalogs. Political propaganda. Send us Money! pleas. Most of it goes straight into the trash.
When ZBoy wailed the title of this post, I realized that the post office could benefit from making mail good again, instead of threatening to close down for good or to bid out various services. I was thinking about this as I was wandering around Barnes & Noble after my thwarted attempts to replace the hand grips the dog ate for the Bowflex. So, I worked on mail for ZBoy.
His first piece of mail will be an anonymous card that says "I will NEVER forget YOU!" in Pooh-speak along with a $20.00 gift certificate to B&N.
The second and third pieces of mail will be one of these two books:
I realize that I'm setting myself up here, but I believe that children SHOULD have mail. The GOOD kind. Not the kind that Mommy and Daddy have to pay for. And later on, I can write him letters. About stuff that he wonders about, stuff that he worries about, stuff that's important as he gets older.
The next challenge is finding a mailbox. I lucked out because my way home passes a small office park with postal boxes in the median, but they're not all over the place like they used to be. I will have to keep my eyes open as I cruise around town for those friendly blue boxes.