Maybe I’m the only one. The sole soul who goes to his mailbox each day and gets all worked up over the flood of stuff stuffed into that aluminum rectangle. Bills, of course, unending fish wrapping paper from area grocers, quickie lube discount coupons, amazing car loan proposals, the latest hearing aid breakthroughs, smokin’ hot cremation offers and 25% APR credit card approval notices. My father has been dead 12 years, but still gets monthly newsletters and donation requests at my address (from the Republican Party and a conservative midwest college; I’ll probably be getting similar missives from the Democrats in few years, over my dead body).
After collecting all of this super significant, noteworthy, important, vital, valuable information, it’s routinely tossed in my recycle bin. Then I hike upstairs to my computer in my home office. And guess what I find right there in my email inbox? That’s right. More offers for fabulous 2 for 1 Groupon deals, amazing size does matter enlargement proposals, reverse mortgage come ons, etc., etc.
The television doesn’t provide a whole lot of relief either, though the disclaimers for most of the latest cure alls can be pretty informative. “On rare occasions, this med may cause death,” we’re told. Oh well. So can the occasional car that runs a red light when you’re attempting to cross the street.
I haven’t even touched on a myriad of other too muches or manys encountered on a daily basis––hundreds of cable channels, gut-busting super buffets, 31 flavors, Rocky and Halloween sequels, California wildfires, and Cher farewell concerts.
Many younger people, fortunately, aren’t even slightly fazed by this onslaught. Their heads are perpetually turned toward the phones in their hands. Whatever’s happening on those tiny screens must be much more exciting than real life.
It’s probably fair to ask me now, I suppose, if I have any remedies for this too much of nearly everything rant of mine? My short answer––no! At least that isn’t too long or too much.