I was standing in line at the post office the other day passing time with a full-of-life eighty-something. We were laughing about nothing important when a seventy-some-odd who just left the counter comes up to us with his hand open and says, Look at this, no wonder the post office is broke. His hand had thirty-four cents in it. I said Beautiful and turned to get back to my banter with eighty-something. Seventy-some-odd raised his hand higher, almost touching my nose, and shouted, No, look, look! Got thirty-three stamps to make up for the increase in postage. Gave the girl a dollar and she gave me all this change. Thirty-three times three, that’s ninety-nine! Shoulda gave me a penny back, that’s all. No wonder they’re broke. He turned and left. By then eighty-something was next in line. Disappointed, we said our goodbyes. As I left the post office, seventy-some-odd was standing in a crowd with his hand outstretched, the change clearly visible, spewing on about the reason this country is broke. Smiling, I got into my truck. Didn’t have the heart to tell him that the increase was two cents, not three.

The hunt for the Unknown Cartoonist continues. We’ll up the ante. Lunch for two at Mexcal restaurant and a gift certificate to the new Pink Tuna Sushi restaurant (check out the ad in this issue) for information leading to the capture of the Unknown Cartoonist. By the way, Unknown, snail mail’s best.
Don’t forget the advertisers!