PO’ed

Backpack. Check.

Water. Check.

Rations. Check.

ComfyFoot Inserts. Check.

Fully charged iPod. Check.

Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, volume I. Check.

“OK, I’m packed. I’m leaving!” I shouted as I headed out the door.

“Where are you going, again?” a voice said from the far reaches of the house.

“Post Office.” I replied.

“Oh. So, you don’t know when you’ll return. I won’t hold dinner.”

Nice, I thought, and I set off for my adventure.

I had two packages to mail and, you know, it’s one of those things where I’d be better off to tape a hundred dollar bill to the parcel and drop it in the box.

But, no, to mail a package you have to go to the Post Office.

It’s a Law of Nature.

Predictably, the queue at the Post Office was long, but I was prepared: food, water, comfy shoes and a fully charged iPod.

I settled in.

About a month later the guy behind me tapped me on the shoulder and asked, “Is this line moving?”

Silly question, I thought, but I replied, “I don’t know. I’ll ask the guy in front of me.”

Tapping my forward neighbor on the shoulder I asked, “How long have you been here?”

“What year is it?”

I turned back, “It’s moving. He’s still alive.”

The iPod enabled me to maintain my sanity. As I munched on my trail mix I completed the entire works of Beethoven, Mozart and Brahms and was working my way through Led Zeppelin.

A very, very old man smiling broadly shuffled past us and out the door. We all took a tiny step forward.

Then, right in the middle of my air guitar rendition of ZZ Top’s “I’m Bad, I’m Nationwide” I heard the magical words:

“Next!”

I had the exact change in several currencies. I said “First Class, no confirmation, ground, red, white and blue truck, driver named ‘Ed’, keep the change.” I was out of there. Done. Cut loose. Sprung. Free as a bird.

And wouldn’t you know it the iPod was pumping out Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Free Bird.” How cool was that?

I’m freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. And the bird you cannot changeyangeyangeyange…