Thursday, October 12, 2017

It's Starting

I had to chastise the salesclerk at the framing store - there were Christmas decorations on display.  It was October 1st.  They were tempting and pretty and completely unacceptable.  Fall had barely ended.  Halloween hadn't even come out of the closet.  What was the great rush?  Along with the assault in the stores, I am finding similar angst in my mailbox every day.

Memorial Sloan-Kettering Medical Center beguiles me with lined note pads.  St. Jude's had return address labels delivered.  A home for orphaned Lakota Sioux children has been sending me dream catchers for years; I'm waiting for its arrival in the usual over-sized, over-stuffed envelope full of cards with religious messages (a friend brings them to her church) and stickers and labels and larger pads than the doctors in New York City provide.

We had to move from California to stop Little Cuter's never ending gifts from the ASPCA. She sent them $1 when she was 8 or 9; they spent 50 times that on unsolicited calendars and posters alone.  At Christmas time, they were the beggars to match.

FlapJilly loves stickers; I have a drawer full of stick-able rectangles with flowers and stars and American flags, with angels and fishes and colorful houses, all abutting addresses which no longer belong to anyone I know or love.  We took Daddooooo's check book when he began paying for them; the more he paid, the more they sent. 

I'm sure there is research proving that direct mail works; otherwise they wouldn't send it.  Often, I prove it myself. 

Operation Homefront included a very cool 5x5 decal for my car's sun shield; I couldn't apply it without sending a small donation first.  They are on my list of regular charities, so I didn't feel as if I had been played..... even though I had been, certainly and definitely.  Guilt is a tremendous motivator.

Annoyance is not.  There are envelopes full of goodies which I store or give away without looking at the return address more than once.  I'm ignoring their intrusion into my home, feeling mildly perturbed that I'm keeping their stuff but remembering the lesson of the ASPCA and Daddooooo. 

These people cannot be encouraged.

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