Al’s Side Bar

Last week, the day after we released the Uptight Suburbanite, Linda left our home very early in the morning to babysit for our son and daughter-in-law. When I got up later in the morning I realized that I was home alone and remembered that the office was closed. Great!

I decided to forgo my morning shower, skip the razor and hair brush and don an outfit Linda has been urging me to trash since the Civil War was over. I will admit that the relics were old and outdated, showed wear and tear but the “rags” sure were comfortable. Besides I was home alone with nothing more than a cup of coffee and the newspaper. Who would know?

Later in the day, just about at noon time, I decided to grab a bite at a Burger King Drive Thru and then head on over to the post office to pick up the company’s mail. (I am always hoping for payments.) When I got to the Post Office I discovered there was a ton, and I mean a ton, of mail stuffed into our box. After prying it all out of the little tiny container I spent a good deal of time sorting it. I found twelve tons of junk mail from charities I have never heard of, several checks and a plain brown envelope. Just as I was dumping the junk mail I took a long look at the plain brown wrapper. I was certain it was pornography. Before flipping the “little goodie” into the dumpster curiosity got the best of me and I, after making sure no one was in view, opened it.

What a surprise! Someone from my old neighborhood (Feltonville) had found, while downsizing to a smaller home, a copy of the 1951 “The Bartonette” from Clara Barton Elementary School on Wyoming Avenue in Philadelphia that I attended. I was thrilled and took it home, along with the letter that accompanied the magazine, to read and enjoy.

The letter (neatly typed and double spaced) was great and the little magazine was marvelous. I spent almost two hours reading and re-reading the ancient document. It brought back even more ancient memories. I really enjoyed my childhood and growing up in that particular neighborhood. I also got one hell of an education at Clara Barton.

Finally, I sat down at the computer to send a letter thanking the sender and sharing my thoughts. That’s when I realized that the person who had sent me this wonderful little package had not signed the letter. I had no idea who it was or where they lived. The only thing I knew was that the envelope that I had trashed had a return address. So I leaped into my chariot, still wearing my pre-civil “Linda-isn’t-around-outfit” and rushed back to the Post Office to retrieve the envelope. Too late, the trash can that I had used had been dumped into a larger container.

Now I may not be the brightest bulb in the nation, but I am one of the more persistent. I wasn’t about to give up. So, I literally jumped into the dumpster to retrieve the plain brown envelope. Believe it or not, I actually found it. And, as I was brushing myself off, an older man wearing a naval cap from one of the ships in WWII approached me and asked whether I needed some money for lunch! I quickly explained what was happening and why he found me in this situation…. and we both smiled. Mission accomplished, albeit really redfaced, I got in my newer model luxury vehicle and drove away in my “Linda-isn’t-around-outfit.”

Now how many publishers would share this embarrassing moment with his readers? I thank you for the opportunity! Hope it made you chuckle.

Allen Herman
Your opinions are always welcomed.
uptightsuburban@aol.com