EVERY OTHER Saturday, around 8:30 a.m. to avoid heavy traffic, I leap into the Honda and head downtown to check the sparse contents of my post office box.
I did that today. It’s a nice drive, usually very cool due to the early hour. There’s rarely anything in the PO box, which is why I check it only every two weeks.
As I pass the Best Western, there are two black folks standing in the street at the speed bump with their hands out. They are Central American illegals heading north. This is not the first time I’ve seen Central Americans at that speed bump.
How do I know they are Central Americans? Because the last time I spotted similar people at that speed bump, they were holding a sign that said so. Also, black Mexicans, not too numerous anywhere, are nonexistent in our area.
In contrast, blacks are quite common in Central America.
My mind wanders here and there during the 15-minute drive to the post office.
Yesterday I read a poll that said our nincompoop demagogue of a leftist president, whom I refer to as El Presidente Moonbat, has slipped 8 points in popularity, from 78 percent to 70 percent, still way, way too high. But another poll this morning says he’s plummeted to 47 percent. I pray the latter poll is the correct one.
He’s gutted the public health system. Violence is at record highs. Economic trust is declining. Plus, he’s vindictive and divisive. And likely wants to be President for Life. His party controls the legislative branch. The Constitution can be changed.
We’re in the middle of a three-day festival here on the mountaintop. It’s called CantoyaFest, and I’m not a fan. Traffic is awful. Downtown is sealed off.
And, worst of all, it’s a huge fire hazard.
Beautiful balloons of some questionable material are sent aloft in scores. These balloons contain actual fires. They’re launched directly over centuries-old wooden buildings. You see the problem? But we’re Mexican, and we know the Virgin Mary will keep everything under control, and so far she has. I question her reliability.
The post office box contained just two things today. A routine, monthly advisory that my corporate pension had been deposited to my bank account. And a separate promo from another bank. Both were wastes of paper and postage.
Two weeks ago, I received an IRS letter, which is not something you want to see. It had been mailed way back in May. It said I owed over $1,000, and I had damn well better do something about it. Well, something like that.
I phoned the IRS, and a nice lady straightened out the issue. I did not owe anything, an IRS error. Mail is slow to arrive, but usually not that slow. I’ve had a PO box for almost 19 years. It’s far better than counting on delivery to your door.
My biweekly post office visits are fun.
Except when there’s a letter from the IRS.