Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Why the USPS rocks
(Oh, I wish I'd been able to post the Mad Dogs and Englishmen version of this with Leon Russell, being decidedly 'elsewhere' on keyboard. Vocally, however, this is better, if not such a 1970s artifact.)
I have a story, greatly shortened to prevent boredom, about the postal service, Christmas and why the word "service" is not misplaced. There was confusion on my part and that of our letter carrier on Dec. 21 about a Priority box for which I had requested front-door pick-up, while, at the same time, putting a Priority envelope downstairs in the out-going mail. A call to the national help line, an assigned "case" number, a call (once the number was shared like a secret handshake) to our local P.O., a bit more confusion, then our regular carrier at the door around 5 p.m. to take away my package so that it could reach its destination by the 25th, with kindness and an explanation of where things had gone awry. Having learned, on Saturday, that the box arrived on the East Coast, I was surprised to receive another call from the local P.O. after 6 p.m. (Christmas eve) to be sure that the problem had at least been addressed, if not resolved. I assured them all involved had done everything to see that the mail got through in a most professional manner. It would be nice not to have good customer service in the real world come as a surprise, but it does. Thank goodness we do experience it, and I am so grateful when I do.
My next post, after I do a bit more reading, will also be about letters or postcards and more mail art. I worried that by calling I had created a problem for our carrier in uncertain times. I love snail mail, sending and receiving. I love our colorful postage stamps, that I can print out Priority labels on line and mail, from my home, packages that weigh more than 13 ounces. If you didn't send cards for any December holidays, why not send some New Year's greetings or belated Solstice wishes? Please send snail mail. Send lots. Decorate it and make it fun for all those who handle it. I can't bear to think of the USPS riding into the sunset.