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  • 11 Jun

    Your Fireworks Are in the Mail

    Most people would equate ending up on a mystery mailing list as a bad thing.

    You get a few catalogs you don’t want–office supplies, clothing stores you don’t frequent–and wonder why the companies waste their time and yours month after month.

    Because of my work as a federal contractor I get lots of mail targeted at my “business.” I hope Comcast one day figures out I do not need their corporate Internet package in order to write news stories from an office in Washington, D.C.

    But today I hit the mother lode of random mail. The walk to the mailbox was like so many other days. I slipped on the closest footwear, which happened to be sandals that I rocked despite the fact that I was wearing socks. The neighbors clearly recognize my refined sense of style.

    The volume of mail inside our box was pretty typical, three or four letter-size envelopes and a single catalog. The envelopes were pretty boring (thanks Comcast), but the catalog is unlike anything I have ever received in my life.

    It is clear the fine folks at Phantom Fireworks do not think my pyrotechnics needs are being met. Or perhaps they heard that my brother Pat and I have been tasked with teaching our forthcoming niece about fireworks (and baseball).

    In either case, the pages contain all kinds of fire-based fun that is definitely not legal in my home state of Virginia. That is too bad, since you definitely don’t see things like this in the JCPenney catalog:

    The picture is cut off at the bottom, leaving out the part that says your $349.99 gets you 3249 different fireworks. I can’t even fathom how long it would take to light all of that stuff. Fourth of July festivities would last for weeks.

    Despite the great deals on supplies to blow up a small part of your yard, the best part about the fireworks catalog is all of the great names given to the different products. Where else can you see things called Fortress of Fire, Untamed Retribution, Wizard of Ahhhs, Cirque de Pyrotechnique or Tiger Fury?

    I’m not sure how I ended up on their list, but I sure thank Phantom Fireworks for giving me 20 minutes of enjoyment today.

    By cjhannas mail Uncategorized
  • 05 Feb

    I’ll Call You Stampy

    Stampy of course is Bart Simpson’s pet elephant that he won from a radio contest. The DJs offered a thousand dollars or a pet elephant as a prize when Bart called in, and he of course wanted the elephant. But that’s the gag prize kid, everyone takes the money, the DJs said. Bart stood strong and demanded his elephant, and in the end he got exactly what he wanted. The elephant also later got what he wanted–an oversized decorative poncho.

    But that’s all far from today’s point. Last night I was finishing up my taxes and was delighted to learn that I will be receiving a refund. Hooray for making little money this year! After filling out all of the forms, attaching the pieces together in the correct way and saying to myself “I am confident this is the best effort I could give for such a venture,” I folded everything into an envelope-friendly size and shape and sealed that bad boy up.

    That of course was not the end of my tax ordeal, as I then had to fill out my return address and put their pre-printed label on the front of the envelope so that it may make its way to the proper place in Atlanta. Then comes the part that boggles my mind–postage. So the government sends out these tax booklets and asks that you fill out all these forms and send them back. There is this thing called the United States Postal Service that will pick up the completed forms from my place of residence and take them to Atlanta.

    That’s called scam city. Millions of Americans are required to put a stamp on the front of this envelope in order to get it delivered. There is no other option. Come on government, throw us a bone here. Paying for postage should be only for things you choose to mail. If you are required by the government, or a government, to mail something, that postage should be taken care of:

    Gov’t: “Hey postal service, uhh, everyone has to send one of these back to us, call it good?”
    USPS: “Word, word. We got you dawg.”

    By cjhannas mail Simpsons Uncategorized
  • 05 Dec

    Yes I’m At 123 Box Rd, Box, VA

    The clock is ticking. Pretty soon everyone will be out of money. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

    Now I don’t have a degree in economics, hell I haven’t even taken a class that would even come close. But I have taken math, and according to math, money is about to disappear at a faster rate than ever.

    So for anyone who doesn’t get a Christmas present from me this year, don’t despair, I’m just looking out for No. 1. Or just go blame the people at Giant food and modern medicine, it’s all their fault.

    The other day I went to the grocery store to replenish my stay-alive necessities like pasta, hot dogs and oatmeal. Being a grad student working two part-time jobs, this is the kind of expedition I like to make as frugal as possible. So instead of laying out $3 for eight hot dogs from the fine people at Ball Park or Oscar Mayer, I rock the $0.99 for 10 dogs from Bar S. That is, I used to do that.

    Apparently Rep. Deborah Pryce (R-Ohio) was using some fuzzy math when she said we are in “one of the strongest economies this country has ever seen.” Excuse me, Madamme Representative, the price of my hot dogs skyrocketed 59 percent this week. That’s a problem for low-income Americans, especially as we head into the home stretch of the holiday season. My new monthly budget has to take that increase into account, meaning I may no longer have a place to cook those hot dogs when I have to move out of my apartment and into a cardboard box.

    Now I know you may be thinking, “Gee, this kid is complaining about the price of hot dogs, but really how many would he have to eat in order to be in such dire financial straits?” The answer? A lot. I’m no Kobayashi, but I assure you that I do come somewhat close to his monthly hot dog intake, I just tend to savor them a bit more on the way down.

    But in case outrageous hot dog prices don’t convince you that money as we know it is no more, how about health care? Back in the day, things like Medicare and Social Security were easier for the government to handle since people died at much younger ages. But now we are in a bit of trouble. People are living longer than ever, which means supporting them will take cash from other programs. Of course we could always just use the disappearance of money as a chance to just pretend we have some…not like we’ve ever done that before.

    If you’re rather well-off, or plan to hit the lottery before becoming ripe, you might not think such a financial problem is, well, a problem. But those with a little less of a cash cow are in a little more of a jam. On a good day in my box, I might feel the urge to head down to the public library and download some sort of government assistance form, whip out a pen and fill it out.

    Then of course I have to mail the form to the government. (Let’s say that even if there is an electronic submission option, my time in the box has left me wary of identity theft). In order to mail something in the United States, you need a stamp from the postal service. But after climbing out of $11 billion in debt during the last 35 years, they feel the need to go further and put $3 billion in escrow. Which means the price of stamps will go up more than 5 percent in early January. Guess I better plan on getting a smaller box.

    -This blog brought to you by Procrastination and the letter Y.

    By cjhannas grocery store hot dogs mail Uncategorized
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