The Problem
One should really never complain about something unless you have a better suggestion. In this case, I just don’t. Some 525,469 people work for the U.S. Postal Service. They are the second-largest federal employer, right behind the Department of Defense. Total revenue for the USPS in 2024 was just under $80 billion. And yet it still takes forever to get my mail, if it arrives at all. I have no idea how to fix that. The solution is obviously not people or money.
One part of the problem seems to be Amazon. Nobody goes to stores anymore. Nowadays, if you want something, you just scheme it out a few days in advance and order it online. Amazon Prime offers free shipping with a few exceptions, so there’s no disincentive. That simple observation has increased the USPS workload astronomically.
My letter carrier is an exceptionally nice guy named Joe. We live way out in the hinterlands, so Joe delivers the mail in his private vehicle, an antiquated beater Oldsmobuick. Around Christmas time, there is this tiny Joe-shaped void inside his modest sedan.
Every cubic inch of that thing, to include the front dashboard, is covered with packages. He tells me that as he leaves the post office it is like driving a tank. He just has a little vision slit that he can still see through. Joe will not be disappointed to see Christmas in his rearview mirror, presuming he can someday see his rearview mirror.
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