By Roz Warren
Neither rain nor snow nor dark of night can stop the postal service from delivering the mail. But a $10 billion shortfall just might. The postal service is threatening to file for bankruptcy if it can’t make up its current losses. This calamity, warns the Postmaster General, can only be averted by “swift Congressional action.”
HA! As if.
While we’re waiting for that, I’ve got a few suggestions:
To save money, the postal service is thinking of closing some locations and setting up shop in convenience stores. If you want convenience, how does “U.S. Postal Starbucks” sound? You can lick a stamp and sip a latte in the same place!
Better yet — let’s merge the local post office with the local health spa. Instead of lifting weights, spa members can lift sacks of mail. Instead of taking an aerobics class, they’ll each be assigned a postal route. Delivering mail is great exercise. Not to mention that favorite pastime of postal carriers everywhere — running from snarling dogs.
Ditch the Forever stamp. Nothing lasts forever in this economy. Replace it with the Until Next Tuesday If You’re Lucky stamp.
Commemorative stamps? We can’t afford to commemorate anything but how broke we are. That’s why it’s time to sell ad space on postage stamps. Goodbye statesmen, literary figures and wildflowers. Say hello to the Haliburton stamp!
Tax time? No more online filing. From now on, everything goes through the mail. We’ll issue special stamps for filing tax returns. “Refund, Please.” “Here’s my Last Dollar, You Gonifs.” “I Swear I’m Not Making This Up.” And, sure to be the most popular, “Bite me, IRS.”
We can reform political campaign finance law and fund the post office at the time same by requiring that ALL political advertising take place by mail. Better yet — require that all political advertising take place exclusively on postage stamps! Political speech these days is mostly ten-second sound bites anyway. Politicians haven’t got a thing to say that won’t fit nicely on a postage stamp. Make them put it there. And pay for it. With a three word limit. “Guns for Jesus.” “Tax the Poor.” “Trash the Environment.”
Finally, every child who no longer lives at home will be REQUIRED to mail a handwritten letter to his or her mom each week.
If all else fails, we can always fall back on the Timothy Leary stamp. One lick and suddenly, our nation’s economic problems turn into rainbows and moonbeams and you’re running naked through Strawberry Fields Forever. Sure to be a hot seller, even at fifty bucks for a one-way trip.
If my plan works, I don’t want your thanks. I don’t even want my picture on a stamp. I just want the right to appoint the next Postmaster General. And I want it to be Lady Gaga.