WOW, I’m beginning to think Mr. Farish has really ticked somebody off. It all started about, hmmm, perhaps 18 years ago, with the arrival of a, shall we say, catalog of an intimate nature. Mr. F. actually asked me if I had sent for the thing. No, I did not, nor did I order the ‘enhancing device’ that accompanied said catalog. Well, if you have ever received one catalog, you know that others are bound to follow. Oh yes. The Hair Club for Men, Lingerie, Hunting, The Chicken Farmer (really), Weoponery, Mysticism, Outdoor Clothing, Indoor Clothing, Alternative Clothing … you name it, he gets it. I knew there were lots, what I didn’t realize was the volume that comes in every day.
Since I have been home sick this week, I have brought in the mail each day (Gee, rare treat Mrs. F). Here’s the rundown: Monday – 4 catalogs, Tuesday – 3 catalogs, Wednesday – 5 catalogs, Thursday – 7 catalogs, Friday – ? Mr. Farish beat me to the box and he isn’t telling. How ridiculous is it that a person can’t just reach into the mailbox and withdraw a handful of mail? Nope, our mailbox is so stuffed full that it requires a two-hand tug-n-pull just to get all of the items out intact. Now to be fair, Jeff, our mailman, is always very good to wrap all of the mail into a manageable bundle, but once released, well, those pups just seem to bloom and fill in every available space which means the outer catalog is bound to be torn in said process. Oh, speaking of Jeff, he actually laughs out loud whenever I happen to be around at delivery time, (I have learned to lay low on the weekend). Don’t even ask what he does when he has a package to deliver.
OK, sexy magazines are embarrasing, hunting magazines are just plain awful, but when you start getting those alternative magazines, (body piercing ideas) along with mystical fairies, (sale on crystal balls), and combat gear (did you know that you can actually order a working canon?) alongside Harriett Carter and her infamous toe-seperators, well, a person has no right to claim boredom. Nope, those catalogs will keep a person quite entertained, (or frightened if one isn’t careful) for a very long time.
You want to know what’s really funny? Watching Mr. Farish as he sits on the couch, a stack by his side, readers on, concentrating, as he skims through each catalog cover to cover, (occasionally folding down a corner of something he just might want to order). Once the stack has been perused, pages folded and moved to the ‘used pile’, Mr. Farish will take them to the recycle bin! What was all that folding for? Why the, "Hey, leave that, I might want it." all about? What?
So while I am sad that so many trees had to be destroyed only to be reincarnated as ‘junk mail’, I am glad that Mr. Farish has plenty of reading material, (or toilet tissue should times get tough). Hey mystery gifter, we appreciate your thoughtfulness.