If you were thinking this was going to be one of those cute year-end posts with lots of pictures, you were mistaken. No pictures! And that's really on you because who would title that A Christmas Crime? This post is legit about a crime I just committed. A crime for which I should probably be sorry but I am definitely not. It was totally worth it.
I'd leave you hanging and let you guess the nature of my nefarious deeds; but that seems entirely unnecessary. I'll just tell you right now it was the federal crime of tampering with someone's mail. Although I didn't so much tamper as I did open. And relish. Do you suppose open and relish are covered under the umbrella verb, tamper? And do you also suppose it's not technically a crime if the mail rightfully came to my address? Maybe someone with a deep knowledge of postal law could help me out here. What kind of time am I looking at doing for opening a Christmas card that was meant for the former owners of our home?
For the last two years we've forwarded holiday cards (and other mail) to the former homeowners to absolutely no avail. It's like their hunting trailer on their property in the backwoods of Michigan? Wisconsin? Wyoming? doesn't actually exits. We've also returned to sender many times, and have even filled out the little forwarding address postcard for the previous owners. Twice. But their mail always finds its way back to us. And in the end, what can we do but throw it away? We hardly care about tossing out the gun magazines. It's harder to part with handwritten correspondence. Harder still to put a box of expensive pet meds in the bin. But the holiday cards get to us each year. It feels especially sad to drop them, unopened, on top of our dinner scraps and used tissues. We hate to think of the people on the other end, sending their season's greetings and year-end-reviews directly to our garbage.
I'm not going to try to explain why, because how could I? But tonight, in some misguided effort to honor the spirit of the holiday, I just broke down and opened a card before throwing it away. I know. Super illegal. (I think.) But my heart was in the right place! And I swear to you, the universe rewarded me for that pureness of heart.
It was a Snoopy card addressed to Ray and Griz (names have been changed to protect the innocent). Very brief backstory: Ray and Griz, husband and wife respectively, built the house we now live in. They lived in it 17 years and we're coming up on 3 years. If you do the math (I did the math), they've been together at least 20 years. That's all the backstory you get. Back to my Christmas miracle. As I mentioned, the envelope is addressed to Ray and Griz. But when I open the card, it says:
So my first question is, what happened to Ray? And my second question is, who signs a Christmas card, Sincerely? I'll admit it's 1,000 times better than Cheers. But it's awfully cold. Then there are the quotation marks around one's own name. Are you just a figment of your own imagination, Smee?
But guys. There was SO. MUCH. MORE. Folded inside the card was a handwritten note. Should I have left it folded, put it back in the card, and tucked it into the bin? Yes. Did I do that? Of course not. I'm a criminal!
It'll come as no surprise to you that Ray was also absent from the handwritten letter. This too was only for Griz. And it was mostly innocuous. If you can call ending every sentence with an exclamation point or two innocuous. (Who's the real criminal here?) It went from working at the university! To pulmonary edema! To having a great "2018"!!
And then it went to a place I could never possibly have imagined. Right before signing off, Smee seemed to gather the courage to remind Griz about a certain body part they must have mutually admired. I know...right? No wonder Ray wasn't on this thing! Here's what it said:
There's just so much here that I'll never understand. Like why is belly button in parentheses? I don't know. The most likely scenario is that this person is simply atrocious with his or her use of punctuation. And speaking of him or her, I don't know that either. A genderless name and nondescript handwriting make it entirely possible that this is just a long-lost sorority sister. Button.
But. It just feels like more, doesn't it? It feels like Ray didn't make it past the envelope because Button doesn't care at all about how extra jolly his year is. Button sent Griz this holiday missive. Button wished Griz a Merry Christmas! and a sincerely great "2018"!!
A season greeting Griz will never get, and a slight Ray will never feel. A balance restored, perhaps?
But what of Button? Now I've opened this card. This reminder of a life two people once lived. A life worth reminiscing on. And I have no real choice but to put his or her letter in the bin. Because as far as the USPS is concerned, there is no hunting trailer. And as far as the law is concerned, opening someone's mail and then sending it back to them is, if not criminal, super dumb.
So here's what I'm doing instead. I'm putting Button's greeting out there into the world because that's the best I can do for it. It wasn't supposed to go back to Button, it wasn't supposed to end up with me, and it sure as hell wasn't for Ray.
I guess it's for the Griz inside each of us. The Griz who could use a seasonal reminder that someone out there is thinking of you, even if his or her letter never makes it to your mailbox.
Sincerely,
Kimberly
I'd leave you hanging and let you guess the nature of my nefarious deeds; but that seems entirely unnecessary. I'll just tell you right now it was the federal crime of tampering with someone's mail. Although I didn't so much tamper as I did open. And relish. Do you suppose open and relish are covered under the umbrella verb, tamper? And do you also suppose it's not technically a crime if the mail rightfully came to my address? Maybe someone with a deep knowledge of postal law could help me out here. What kind of time am I looking at doing for opening a Christmas card that was meant for the former owners of our home?
For the last two years we've forwarded holiday cards (and other mail) to the former homeowners to absolutely no avail. It's like their hunting trailer on their property in the backwoods of Michigan? Wisconsin? Wyoming? doesn't actually exits. We've also returned to sender many times, and have even filled out the little forwarding address postcard for the previous owners. Twice. But their mail always finds its way back to us. And in the end, what can we do but throw it away? We hardly care about tossing out the gun magazines. It's harder to part with handwritten correspondence. Harder still to put a box of expensive pet meds in the bin. But the holiday cards get to us each year. It feels especially sad to drop them, unopened, on top of our dinner scraps and used tissues. We hate to think of the people on the other end, sending their season's greetings and year-end-reviews directly to our garbage.
I'm not going to try to explain why, because how could I? But tonight, in some misguided effort to honor the spirit of the holiday, I just broke down and opened a card before throwing it away. I know. Super illegal. (I think.) But my heart was in the right place! And I swear to you, the universe rewarded me for that pureness of heart.
It was a Snoopy card addressed to Ray and Griz (names have been changed to protect the innocent). Very brief backstory: Ray and Griz, husband and wife respectively, built the house we now live in. They lived in it 17 years and we're coming up on 3 years. If you do the math (I did the math), they've been together at least 20 years. That's all the backstory you get. Back to my Christmas miracle. As I mentioned, the envelope is addressed to Ray and Griz. But when I open the card, it says:
Griz,
Hope your holidays are filled
with lots of extra jolly
this year!
Sincerely,
"Smee"
So my first question is, what happened to Ray? And my second question is, who signs a Christmas card, Sincerely? I'll admit it's 1,000 times better than Cheers. But it's awfully cold. Then there are the quotation marks around one's own name. Are you just a figment of your own imagination, Smee?
But guys. There was SO. MUCH. MORE. Folded inside the card was a handwritten note. Should I have left it folded, put it back in the card, and tucked it into the bin? Yes. Did I do that? Of course not. I'm a criminal!
It'll come as no surprise to you that Ray was also absent from the handwritten letter. This too was only for Griz. And it was mostly innocuous. If you can call ending every sentence with an exclamation point or two innocuous. (Who's the real criminal here?) It went from working at the university! To pulmonary edema! To having a great "2018"!!
And then it went to a place I could never possibly have imagined. Right before signing off, Smee seemed to gather the courage to remind Griz about a certain body part they must have mutually admired. I know...right? No wonder Ray wasn't on this thing! Here's what it said:
Yep, still rock a cute little (belly-button) HA!
Sincerely:
Smee
(Button)
There's just so much here that I'll never understand. Like why is belly button in parentheses? I don't know. The most likely scenario is that this person is simply atrocious with his or her use of punctuation. And speaking of him or her, I don't know that either. A genderless name and nondescript handwriting make it entirely possible that this is just a long-lost sorority sister. Button.
But. It just feels like more, doesn't it? It feels like Ray didn't make it past the envelope because Button doesn't care at all about how extra jolly his year is. Button sent Griz this holiday missive. Button wished Griz a Merry Christmas! and a sincerely great "2018"!!
A season greeting Griz will never get, and a slight Ray will never feel. A balance restored, perhaps?
But what of Button? Now I've opened this card. This reminder of a life two people once lived. A life worth reminiscing on. And I have no real choice but to put his or her letter in the bin. Because as far as the USPS is concerned, there is no hunting trailer. And as far as the law is concerned, opening someone's mail and then sending it back to them is, if not criminal, super dumb.
So here's what I'm doing instead. I'm putting Button's greeting out there into the world because that's the best I can do for it. It wasn't supposed to go back to Button, it wasn't supposed to end up with me, and it sure as hell wasn't for Ray.
I guess it's for the Griz inside each of us. The Griz who could use a seasonal reminder that someone out there is thinking of you, even if his or her letter never makes it to your mailbox.
Sincerely,
Kimberly
Comments
Post a Comment