Remember that slogan at the Post Office?
That vision they created: a really dedicated postal person: rain- wind- sleet- snow, delivering-shivering.
First before I begin my "daily rant", I'd like to say I know of some really great postal employees.
They're all in one tiny office up north where I once lived, on the Mohawk Trail.
They are crackerjacks; on the ball.
And then I made a mistake.
I moved one town down east, on the trail, and I cannot tell you the difficulties there with postal service.
I actually got one very lame "oh well" a veritable yawn...when complaining about a check that we got in the mail long (months)after it was mailed-and it coincidently happened at the time the carrier was out on sick leave.
Oh no couldn't have been at the bottom of her bag, it must have been stuck in Springfield. What that man didn't get on purpose, was the fact that Springfield had postmarked it months before...I gave up and walked home.
Then... I moved south...changed the address, and today, I received mail- at my new address, from the post office.
I received 6- count em again - 6 notices about my recent change of address.
I confess, I use three different last names; one married, one maiden and one pseudonym that I write under.
I filled out all the info as I was directed by the new post office employee- as an individual.
She was great, and very efficent, I thanked her profusely for the help.
But all pleasantry aside, three of the six received were the wrong name combination altogether completely different than filled out -apparently because the person reading my name either doesn't understand hyphenated names, or is too busy reading the latest newspaper story about the billions in the red wondering where their job will go next.
And the answer is south.
Birds go south, I've gone south, the economy went south, and so goes the postal service.
I was told by that very efficent postal employee to do my change via email because that is the "most effective" way for the change to be implemented.
But I said nuh-huh as I wasn't going to spend the dollar they charge to do electronically.
Oops being the expression of sorry, of surprise:.
Surprise! We're going under and you're gonna pay for it, and by the way, we're closing up most Saturdays now as well as keep you in line, waiting. Forever, and charge you to boot and you'll pay for the boot too.
No. No sorry and certainly no surprise here:
It stands for outrageously overpaid postal slackers.
And we the people created every single one.
I've read recent sympathetic newspaper articles about the overworked wee postal employee who (get this) "has" to ask you those dumb questions, upsell the services, or lose their job; slashed by upper level management.
That the upper level should be the only ones to go instead.
I disagree, the cuts need to be done in an efficent manner across the board: Park Avenue to Baltic Avenue, St James to Pennsylvania Ave. All above board, and in full view, simply take out the slackers. Because if we don't someone up in D.C. will create a bailout, and the goodship lollipopostal service is already way past sunk.