PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

Mr. Mailman

Friday, Apr. 16, 2004
There is a black postman that delivers the mail where I work. I find that he is an intellectual minded person by comments that he makes on occasion. I have wondered how it is that he is doing such a mindless job, a job where he walks around delivering mail. A job that requires little to no thought processes once the task is learned. It is surely not a job whereby an individual needs more extensive training from time to time. I don’t say this from the standpoint that I believe he is stupid or that just anyone can do this job, however I imagine many people could apply them selves and easily become a mailman. The most difficult aspect to the job at hand for me would be the direction dyslexia that I suffer from in extreme bouts. No one on my route, were I to be a mailwoman would ever receive their Ladies Home Journal on time because I would be scratching my head on the north side about how to get to Miss Schlemlicker’s house on the Westside in time. However this is because I’m a twit about maps and locations.

Mr. Mailman (his name is Charles but I like Mr. Mailman better, Mr. Charles Mailman that is, comes in here daily and hands me the company mail directly. He’s always cheerful and smiling and yet I have picked up that he has a lot going on in that mind of his. One day he mentioned a comment about politics. Another time he mentioned something about the bible. I believed him to be a deep thinker and I have had this overwhelming knowledge as though it were a given that he owned a lot of books. Maybe one bibliophile can smell the ink and pages on another? Maybe it’s much like dogs sniffing asses to determine where another dog has been. Maybe it’s something in the blood pressure that matches to my own that causes a dual beating all-inclusive to mental knowledge for me. Either way, I indicated to my friend Bryan that I felt that Mr. Mailman was an intellectual thinking person and wondered how he could do a mindless job such as mail delivery. Mr. Mailman wears headphones sometimes yet I never hear music nor do I see him tripping along happily as though he were listening to “On Top of Spaghetti” happy go lucky tunes. His mannerisms indicate that of a genteel sort of individual. I could easily see him playing a character in an old southern film whereby standing alongside a girl in a big puffy ruffled dress carrying a parasol easily. He’s a gentleman for sure. Good morning and good afternoon being his most chosen greetings for me.

I believe there are two sorts of people in this world. There are those deep thinkers and there are the rest. I am a deep thinker. I analyze people for who and what they are. More so now after coming to the sad realization that I once married a psychopath without prior knowledge. This will scare anyone into thinking hard!

In light of all of my analyzing and over thinking about Mr. Mailman I finally came upon the notion that it was time to speak more openly to Mr. Mailman and so I just did. Turns out that I asked “you have a lot of books at home don’t you?” “You read constantly about life, religion and politics don’t you?” “You read the newspapers and have political opinions about war, current events and Washington D.C.” “You have bookshelves at home and I believe you’re not listening to music but rather your listening to books perhaps or commentary tapes of some sort.” “You like your job but you are smarter than your task.”

He looked me straight in the eye and said, “yes how the hell did you know that?” I said, “because one bibliophile can smell another.”

He laughed. We then proceeded to exchange book titles and I’m happy to say that Mr. Mailman has a large assortment of interests and interesting ideas to share. I knew it!! I think that Mr. Mailman and I have much in common and I am glad I broke the ice.

Am I attracted to him? No. Will we be dating? No. But in life there are so many connections we never make because we sit back and idly wonder but never address or question or open the door to people. I have been guilty of this in large doses in the past. I am trying to stop doing that. Last night I went to see a friend of mine, Rose. Rose is a nice person with a lot of problems. Problems I don’t know how to help her with. Things that are only up to her to address. Things that could easily make another person insane with worry for her without much control over their outcome. However, she’s a good person a little lost right now and I have decided to stop pushing people out and try more to let people in and for this decision I am proud of myself.

Mr. Mailman is bringing me an article tomorrow. Something he wants to share about the situation in Iraq etc. His face lit up when I told him what sort of person I thought he was. He said, “You should see my books!” To which I replied, “in a heartbeat I’d go see something like that!”

The world is a big place when you take the blinders off. Too many people live within their own set of standards and have walls up all over their lives. This is who they are and that’s all that matters to them and nothing else.

I’m glad I stepped out of my comfort zone and finally spoke to him. I need to do that more often. I need to be assertive and unafraid of rejection in all of it’s forms. I don’t need a lot of acquaintances in a black book or a party invitation stance but I do want more interactions and more cause for learning and exploring the world. I had a nice conversation with Mr. Mailman… “Charles” to me now. I think most people are unfairly judged for the current lot they carry in life and not for the mind they carry within their heads.

Charles is a mailman on a mission and I am glad I took the time….

He told me he told his grandmother when he was 5 that he wanted to be a mailman. She told him “that is highly unlikely, you’re a black boy”. He said, “Watch and see grandma’ma watch and see.” This is why I mentioned that he was a black man earlier, this and only this. I do not see color, I do not see appearance, I no longer place any value on those immediate reflections. I see interior and nothing else. It is so much more important the older I get.

-PoeticaL

(Stop)
Oh yes, wait a minute Mister Postman
(Wait)
Wait Mister Postman

-The Carpenters
11:14 a.m. ::
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