Ihave always loved mail, so much so that I often think I'd have made a good postal carrier. I could have one of those big leather pouches, a vehicle with the steering on the wrong side, and a day off on every holiday.

There are some jobs in which, no matter what they do, workers are unappreciated and unfairly criticized by the people they serve. After decades of working for the newspaper, I've long been accustomed to that, but I knew what I was in for. When I was a kid delivering the daily news, I would have to collect the $3.18 monthly fee from subscribers on my route. Most people mailed me a check, but those who required a personal visit would usually complain about "The Ruptured Duck" while handing me a fistful of coins and a crumpled bill or two.

It's not just me. I have a compatriot

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