These friendly faces might include those who delivered mail, milk or bread. One might even remember the old craftsmen who would come around to sharpen people's knives.
Today, however, even the hallowed paperboy is a thing of the past.
***
In the Sack, mail is delivered to a central "super box" on an adjacent street.
Most residents check their mail once per week. Oscar claims that "no good" can come from checking one's mail at all. He will only visit his mail box when Canada Post calls to say his box is full.
Newspaper delivery is now a full-time job, carried out by adults who drive around in cars. Any day now, newspaper delivery will become a profession. One will need to be certified.
Maybe, this isn't a bad idea.
***
The young woman who delivers my Daily Snooze drives around in a battered Toyota. Oscar describes her as a rocker chick, because she is always clad in a concert t-shirt and wearing a red bandana around her head. I'm not sure if this qualifies one for rocker chick status.
She usually delivers the paper around five o'clock in the morning. Her car makes several distinctive noises which have awakened me on a number of occasions. I've watched from my bedroom window as she alights from her car and throws the paper in the general direction of the house.
Occasionally, the paper will land on our porch. This only seems to happen when the weather is warm and dry. I have retrieved papers from snowbanks, bushes and from under my car. Not long ago, I discovered a month-old paper on the porch roof.
***
A young man delivers the old town's other newspaper, The Chronically Horrid.
He usually arrives around 4 a.m. in another older vehicle. He is a big fan of heavy metal music. He parks his car in the middle of The Sack and leaves the door open while he delivers the papers. The volume of his car stereo is set to cranked.
There is nothing more refreshing than awakening to the dulcet tones of Guns & Roses.
***
Computer Doug is a man who travels a great deal in his work. Often, he must be on a plane at six o'clock in the morning.
On such days, Computer Doug claims that he has no need for an alarm clock. Instead, he says he simply gets up when he hears the driving drums and guitars of Anthrax.
***
Oscar and I have wondered if the rocker chick from the Daily Snooze and the heavy metal guy from The Chronically Horrid have ever met each other. Neither of us have ever seen them in The Sack at the same time.
We agree they might like each other very much. They seem to have much in common. We wonder if love could spring from such a union.
Each day they must barely miss being in The Sack at the same time. Some day in the future, it will be fate that will bring them together.
Oscar says he's working on a rock opera relating to their story. He has yet to share it with me.
***
The point of all this is the following: Other than their annoying habits, Sack residents know little, if anything, about their professional news delivery people, mail carriers or any other service providers.
Things are much more impersonal these days. This can't be a good thing, unless of course, Oscar successfully writes a rock opera and Computer Doug gets to the airport on time.
***
1 comment:
Thank you, Sara! I appreciate the feedback very much.
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