New Year's '08, Not So Great

Happy New Year Everyone!
In case your New Year started off on the wrong foot - enjoy this
"a little too long" tale. Misery loves company.

I wrote this more for myself than anyone else - Self-Exorcism.

But, after dipping this in some holy water, I decided I had the need to share my angst! So my gain is your loss -
If you're sensitive to pain - hit delete NOW!

This tale contains very little exaggeration - well maybe a teensy, weensy bit, but not much.

I was ambling down my driveway this afternoon to retrieve the mail - and when I got to the bottom of my driveway, I found my solid 15lb. steel mailbox perched upon a steel post, which is sunk into a cement footing 2 and one half feet into the earth, had been decapitated by a city plow being driven by a New Year's eggnog laden plow guy!!

So after stamping my feet for a bit and cursing plowmen everywhere, I gather up my mortally wounded steel box which was poking out of a five feet high plowed glacier, and tossed in into the Jeep. I headed right off
to the Town of Esopus Department of Highway Maintenance and dropped it's corpse onto the desk of a very perplexed woman.

Silence ensued for about 4 or 5 seconds as we each tried to figure out what was happening and waited for the other to speak.

She won - I spoke first - with a bit of rectitude in my voice- "so what are we going to do about this?"

She formed an incorrect reply - "do about what?"

"About this!" I exclaimed - "You" I said (with an unwavering pointed finger and stare) did this!"

"What did I do?" Came another incorrect reply.

So I preceded to explain what I thought was self-explanatory, and concluded - that I was most unpleased, and that someone would have to compensate me for this dastardly act upon my bill delivery storage center.

The steadily annoying women answered "wait here" - and ambled to a room behind her where I heard her muffled voice explaining the situation. A pause - few minutes pass.

Out emerges a man who I sized up in 2 seconds - someone who doesn't give a shit about me, or any other problems the universe might present upon him.

I know just from his haircut ( which I guessed to be about two to three years of age), and finely tailored stained plaid jacket hanging upon finely stained overalls, which rumpled up his legs - which were obviously looking forward to their once a New Year's visit, to the washing machine. All this was squeezed into a very fine pair properly mud stained, knee high boots. - (Hey, I know a clue when it presents itself!).

So - he presents the same blank stare the not so lovely women gave me, and drawls out - "So what's the problem?"

Upon vigorously rubbing my eyes I exclaim, "This was my mailbox, I need a new one and you need to provide me with one." Judging from his stare, I guessed that this was the wrong answer to his question.

"So", he said "what do you want me to do about it?"

More eye rubbing.

"I want the town to replace my mailbox, I can't get my mail, I'm going to have to drive to the Post Office everyday to get my mail!"

"Well" he begins, "By law we're not required to replace anything. That mailbox you have is NOT considered to be a NY. State regulated mailbox."

"What do you mean, Not R-E-G-U-L-A-T-E-D??" I pointedly asked.

Now this man, who one would never imagine, but should expect, knows every highway regulation on the books and proceeds to explain -

"By New York State law, we're not required to replace any mailbox, except a state regulated one, which is a $9 - $12.00 mailbox that sits upon a four foot high, 2x4 wood post. And if I wanted to, I'm not even obligated to replace any type of mailbox!" That mailbox you have there is considered high end, and NOT at regulation standards."

In my mind, I'm quickly trying to grapple with the thought, that even in it's current condition, my mailbox exceeds any NY. State "Regulated" mailbox.

I thought, as I'm sure most sane people do - that when you regulated something it was supposed to be of a higher standard than the norm. Then I came to my senses and settled the quandary, - realizing that I DO live in NY. State.

Who knew? But after a second or two, as he explained why I was sadly ignorant of my current situation, I knew New York State, which never disappoints, would require me to "bend over and spread my legs."

With the tiniest scintilla of sympathy he said "I'm sorry, but this was an accident."

"I assumed this was an accident." I acknowledged. "but I pay a lot of taxes - too many taxes not to have my plowed over mailbox replaced!"

I'll tell you what, I will replace your mailbox with a New York State regulated mailbox - how's that?" Have I landed in a Monty Python sketch? - where's the Dead Parrot?

"But I want you to replace MY mailbox!"

"Even if I wanted to - by law, I couldn't replace that exact mailbox, I would get into trouble!"

The one thing I know about this guy is that he and trouble avoid each other at all cost.

So, realizing my fate, and considering that I live in a state, bound by rules that John Gotti would admire,
I say "FINE! Whatever. I need my mail, so I'll take a R-E-G-U-L-A-T-I-O-N mailbox to get me through the winter." And in the Spring I'll install a REAL Mailbox - I told myself.

Only this time I'll get bridge worker to sink a skyscraper "I" beam 10 ft. into a cement footing, in the ground and have a professional bridge welder attach the 50lb. Cast Iron Non-R-E-G-U-L-A-T-E-D mailbox to it.

Sensing my resignation, taking unusual mercy on me, he says "I'll send some guys out tomorrow to install a regulation mailbox for you. Everything will be fine by tomorrow night."

"But it's supposed to be 18 degrees tomorrow and the ground is frozen and under the 5ft. high snow bank your plow driver created!" I replied.

"That'll be no problem, we have equipment to take care of that." He says.

Removing my mailbox corpse from their front desk I mutter,"Okay, I'll see your guys tomorrow."

As I leave for my car, a thought occurs - the Town of Esopus Dept. of Maintenance, can sink a mailbox in the frozen ground during sub-freezing temperatures, but they can't replace my formerly lovely shiny mailbox.

Next winter, when it snows, I'll surround my new Re-sunk and welded "I" beam mailbox, with Police approved tack laden, street rumple strips.

And when a distracted plow driver gets particularly close to my mailbox destroys his plow, and looses his tires, skidding and flipping into a snow bank - and the incredulous highway department wants me arrested,
I'll inform them that the state doesn't say anything about "regulations" for a NON "regulated" mailbox, and that my particular rumple strips are New York State, Police Regulated, and I have the right to protect my property which includes my mailbox, from your plows, because I now know that you don't do the "Lazurus mailbox" deal, so I can't be responsible for your plow or your tires!

The State line sign should read - "Welcome to New York - Drop your Shorts and smile!"

THERE - I feel better now... how about you??
Welcome to '08 Everyone

PS. - Next Winter, feel free to attend my trial -
I was born and raised in NY. I'm smarter than I look... Maybe.