Surrender, Serenity, and the Ho-Ho-Hot Mess that is the US Mail

I trusted the post office to deliver holiday gifts to loved ones. I knew the system was stretched as thin as most mothers are this time of year but figured just like we manage to bake the cookies, deck the halls, whip up a Christmas morning strata, and get that last stocking filled, the once-venerable, old institution was up to the task. You see, I was raised to believe in the US Postal Service’s unofficial motto. “Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.” I now know this is as implausible as Santa Claus. Much as I want to believe in the chubby, bearded man in the red suit, who has an impressive command of an overloaded sleigh, pulled by an octet of reindeer, I surrender to the facts. Claus is a myth, and so is the notion that there is anything remotely “swift” about the Postal Service’s completion of its rounds. I will avoid the low-hanging fruit of blame. We all know there were postal ...