Someday soon, some group way of delivering the mail for a block of residences will be devised and we will be taken a step away from knowing the person who delivers the mail to our home. Because I work from home, I rarely miss a delivery but most of all, my dogs rarely miss one as well.
From the day we first moved here 7 years ago, we were taken by our blond and lively post woman who had dog treats and brief, friendly discussion for all. When her supervisor makes the annual round with her holding a stop watch, we all yell from our porches ” take Vanessa away from us and you will have an office filled with screaming people.”
At Christmas, she wears a santa hat, in summer her regulation shorts and “pith helmet” and rarely comments on the weather. This very hot summer was the first any of us heard her say it was just too hot.
When a substitute is on for her, he/she knows the route is a lot to live up to. People are possessive of their postman/woman. We used to be that way about the milk man. We all know the days of this kind of delivery surely must be numbered but we are savoring it this summer. It’s been hot but pretty here and in the midst of all the nasty news we filter through daily, this small town, this slower life and this peace make for people who treasure other people like Vanessa.
Video: A typical delivery by Vanessa accompanied by Impulse (Imp) my JRT jumping all over her for the treats she brings. On this day, I was having a tough time with Sam Henry’s death. I use Vanessa like I use my hair dresser – cheap therapy! Ah well, it doesn’t stop her from her rounds. My hair dresser also manages to maintain her business as well.
©On My Watch…the writings of SamHenry. Registration pending.
DarcKnyt
August 29, 2010
So many things lost to the “new and improved” business models, eh? How ’bout the little guy in the bow tie who bounced out to your car at the gas station and asked if you’d like to “fill ‘er up?” — and then checked your oil and other vital fluids while he did it, and THEN collected your money and brought you your change, all without the expectation of a tip. *Sigh!*
When I was a boy, my town had two things I miss to this day and will never forget, along side our milk man.
Way down on 4th Street in the waterfront district was a baker — Cardinale’s Bakery. They made some of the best French bread in the San Francisco Bay Area. Soft, hard, sour, sweet — you name it, they did it. Special orders available. And in the morning, they made fresh, warm doughnuts and sent them out in a truck with sweet bread and other fresh baked goods. “The Bread Man” we called him, and we could get almost anything which didn’t require a special order from the back of his van. Awesome.
We also had a place called Dutch Pride Diary Pantry. Imagine a convenience store, stocked with almost everything you could need or want. All the basic necessities and a few niceties too. (Hostess treats were particularly good if they came from the Dutch Pride Dairy.) But now, imagine that convenience store with a drive-through window, and that was DPD. You would pull up in the car, put your window down and hand the man who came to your car a list. He’d vanish for a few minutes into the store and come back out with the groceries bagged and with a bill in his hand. You could pay by cash or check (charge cards too, I imagine, though they were much less common then than now), and drive away with your items. It probably wasn’t a place you could do all your shopping every week from, but supplemental things and forgotten items could be easily, quickly and conveniently picked up. Being a child, I don’t recall whether or not they charged premium prices for their goods or not, but it’s still a fond place in my heart, and something I feel is lost to the winds of change.
Now, however, we have grocery delivery services such as Peapod, et. al. So I guess somethings like milk men and bread delivery sort of have been “renewed” in a way.
But who can afford those things now?
We don’t have the same mail carrier week to week or sometimes even day to day. How sad. I miss the days when we knew his name as you know your mail carrier’s name. The world is a sadder place to me for these changes.
samhenry
August 29, 2010
Love your memories, DK. Are you people still way out west on the left coast?
DarcsFalcon
August 30, 2010
Oh no – we’ve both been in the Chicagoland area for years now. Oddly, we grew up a couple miles from each other, but met out here.
samhenry
August 30, 2010
Would that be birds of a feather? What a small rookery in which we live.
DarcsFalcon
August 30, 2010
I do remember the regular mailman as he was once called. And the mailladies too.
Sadly, not only have so many things changed – and mail delivery probably will too, considering the rates they charge now for a stamp, but Chicago mail has a nasty reputation too. It blew up in the 90s and has never recovered. We’ve even had some personal run-ins with the post office and not getting our mail.
samhenry
August 30, 2010
Thank goodness no oen has gone “postal” at your mailbox. Life in the windy city is hazardous to your health. You need to go somewhere where the air and the politics are clear and clean.
DarcsFalcon
August 30, 2010
Believe me, that is one of our most fervent prayers!