Sure drove like a Dubya-supporter...........
So here I am this morning (Friday, May 18, 2007) placidly driving to the vaunted Canandaigua YMCA; and I have two letters to mail.
We have taken to returning the “business-reply” mail; usually it’s credit-card applications, although one last week was a solicitation for Hilary-dillery.
We used to do this — if they wanna bother us with various solicitations, they can just pay the return-postage on their “business-reply” envelopes. It’s also revenue for my wife’s employer.
But we stopped when processing the mail ate up so much time — like when we both worked.
Mailing something means going through the Bloomfield post-office to deposit in their drop-box.
As I pulled in, Grandpop was blindly backing his Freestar away from the post-office — right in front of me — he hadn’t looked at all.
Well; no problem. It’s a BIG LOT; so I’ll go around him.
To get to the drop-box means turning left; like in front of Grandpop.
But I know all-too-well what might happen. Predictably, Grandpop keeps moving slowly forward, and then lunges left himself to exit the lot.
Didn't look at all. I had to stop to keep from driving into him.
As he disappeared, I looked at the tailgate of the Freestar, but NO DUBYA-STICKER.
Funny; he sure drove like a Dubya-supporter.
Maybe they’re tearing the things off now that angry veterans want us to disengage from a war that was little more than a diversion from failed national policies, and reconciliation with Daddy.
We have taken to returning the “business-reply” mail; usually it’s credit-card applications, although one last week was a solicitation for Hilary-dillery.
We used to do this — if they wanna bother us with various solicitations, they can just pay the return-postage on their “business-reply” envelopes. It’s also revenue for my wife’s employer.
But we stopped when processing the mail ate up so much time — like when we both worked.
Mailing something means going through the Bloomfield post-office to deposit in their drop-box.
As I pulled in, Grandpop was blindly backing his Freestar away from the post-office — right in front of me — he hadn’t looked at all.
Well; no problem. It’s a BIG LOT; so I’ll go around him.
To get to the drop-box means turning left; like in front of Grandpop.
But I know all-too-well what might happen. Predictably, Grandpop keeps moving slowly forward, and then lunges left himself to exit the lot.
Didn't look at all. I had to stop to keep from driving into him.
As he disappeared, I looked at the tailgate of the Freestar, but NO DUBYA-STICKER.
Funny; he sure drove like a Dubya-supporter.
Maybe they’re tearing the things off now that angry veterans want us to disengage from a war that was little more than a diversion from failed national policies, and reconciliation with Daddy.
posted by BobbaLew at 1:35 PM
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