Notice the city skyline.

Notice the nothing skyline.

I live in the country. I don’t mean city-country, where you can see big buildings from your house and you just happen to have a lawn (that’s usually measured in square feet); I mean country-county where you can’t see any other dwelling from your house and you just happen to have property (that’s usually measured in acres or square miles). The people in the country-country have a different outlook on life that I often find very refreshing; I can relate. There is, however, one outlook that infuriates me to no end.

For some reason the people out here love destroying mail boxes. They can’t get enough. I have lived in this house for six years and I have had four mailboxes.

Our first one was stolen, yes stolen. Someone took the place where we collect bills and used it to collect their bills. At the time I thought, “A plastic mailbox is like $10. If they can’t afford one, let ‘em take mine. I can get another.”

The second one was burned, yes burned. It was trash day so our trash can was down by the road ready to be picked up by the nice people who charge us only $80 for the convenience of not driving to the dump ourselves. Since the trash man comes tremendously early in the morning, I usually take it down the night before. In the six hours between taking it down there and them picking it up someone set the garbage can on fire and the mailbox on fire. I guess the taxidermist was closed and they needed something to pass the time.

The third one smashed, yes smashed. Pretend it’s 1968. The Vietnam War is waging on the nightly news, video games are still a few years off, and America is just beginning to move away from the “it takes a village” mentality. Kids had to make their own fun. Sometimes that fun involved mooning people, sometimes it involved going camping without a tent, sometimes it involved smashing mailboxes with baseball bats. Except back then mailboxes were made of some sort of tin derivative, so if you hit it hard enough, the screws would pop loose and the thing would virtually explode. Now, in 2010, plastic mailboxes dent. That’s it. Hitting a plastic mailbox is like trying to bounce a deflated basketball.

My options: I could undent it – that’d fit my lifestyle pretty well. I could go steal mine back – that’d fit my neighbor’s lifestyle pretty well. Or – and this is a stretch – I’ll pretend it’s 2010 America and go buy another $10 plastic mailbox.


3 Responses

  1. or, as long as it still functions, just leave it dented and save your money. They’ll just do something else to the next one anyway.

  2. […] Mailboxes Etc. Posted on July 11, 2011 by Nick Just thought you’d like an update: […]

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