Today, the mailman left definitive proof that I am clairvoyant.
He returned a letter I tried to send to my mom because I put the mailing label where the stamp belongs. I also wrote my return address in the upper left-hand corner. Mr. Mailman was kind enough to write â€œStampâ€ and draw an arrow indicating where the postal system expects me to conform to convention.
Upon finding letter, the mailman probably chuckled then congratulated himself on his extraordinary competence and attention to detail. He would never forget to put a stamp on an envelope. He probably called his wife while he was writing â€œStampâ€ on my letter and declaimed the absent-minded baboon whose mail he has the misfortune to deliver every day. His wife probably cooked him a steak dinner and peach cobbler to show him that she was proud of him.
Well, the joke’s on you, Mr. Mailman. I did that on purpose. I sent that letter to see if you were paying attention. I don’t even need the postal system. I can scan documents and send them to my mom faster than you can roll down the window in your mail truck to flick your booger out the window. My letter confirms my worst fears: the postal system is doomed. If mailmen and mailwomen can’t see beyond something as trivial as an unstamped letter, how will they have the vision to adapt to the current technological milieu? Here I give him a letter with perfectly legible script and printed type, and he still can’t deliver it.
My gift resides not only in my ability to predict the demise of an obsolete organization like the Pony Express but also in my ability to envision a world not floundering in the Dark Ages of stamps, but one which uses owls, Passenger Pigeons, butter, and magic to transport our important messages and parchments.
I am clairvoyant: the future is clear: the postal system is doomed.
I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings. Please plan accordingly.