Stamp it On - Lock Key in Love

This photo was taken in Cadiz, Spain. It made me think of "Lucky in Love", which transformed into the pun "Lock Key in Love". I added the pun to the photo and then submitted it for approval as a USPS postage stamp. It was approved today. This is my 2nd customized stamp.

This is legal US postage. I think it would be great for Valentine's Day cards, engagement announcements, wedding invitations, or just for general mailing.

You can order it in sheets of 20 here.

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Death Benefits

My brother alerted me that our father had a death benefit payable to his survivors. It is a one time burial benefit, but had our mother lived, she would have received monthly payments. He needed my mailing information to have the paperwork sent to me. I always use the university address for things like this for fear the postman may get playful with my mail. We had to pay for his funeral, so this will only partially repay us for his cashing in all of his life insurance to spend on strangers, mostly in Jamaica. You know those "My dear beloved, I hate to trouble you with my problems, but..."


I have to give the Hungarian postal system some credit. The university name has o's with two dots on them and other letters with accents, which American computer systems never get right. Sometimes when I get mail, I am amazed it ever reached me after the address has been bastardized to the nth degree. I certainly would not be able to deliver it. 


Yesterday was State Exams where students defend their theses. I had to go in as an examiner. In my mailbox was the paperwork the death benefit I had been waiting for. It was addressed to 
Ryan J. French
Amer Stud
Eutovoas Lorund Univ
Rakoczi 5
10888 Budapest, Hungary


Just from the label, I was not even sure it was for me if it had not been the return address. Three simple pages of forms, just one to sign, had my name been Ryan J. French. Up until 1976, my name was Richard James French Jr. Not only did I hate any and all forms of Richard, but the ch-ch sound was reminiscent of the train engines on the railroad where my father worked. In 1976, I legally became Ryan James, no middle name, thank you very much.


Apparently, no one told the Railroad Retirement Board, so in addition to the simple forms they sent me, I had to send copies of my birth certificate and the court order stating I had changed my name. This is all nicely sealed and enveloped waiting for the Ron Pony Express to deliver it to a US Post Office for further action. 


Now they will send me a check, hopefully, I will have to sign it and send it back to California to be deposited, but the Pony Express will have already left and returned by that time. Oh well!

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Going Postal

It is getting easier to understand why people "go postal" when the US Postal Service is only delivering crappy service. Point in fact: I ordered ten books that I needed relatively soon for my fall classes. Soon meaning I needed a friend to bring them over to save on postage here. The books were ordered at great expense, being college texts, but shipping them within the US was going save a bundle. 

All the books were shipped to this friend's TX address. Damn if she did not get married in the meanwhile and decide to spend time at her new husband's home two hours away from her own. Okay, my bad for not checking where to have them shipped. When I heard, I immediately contacted the various sellers to change the address. Mind you, this happened within 24 hours, but the books had been shipped by all of the seven sellers I ordered from. What is up with this efficiency? Something change in the book market since I left? All the books went to the wrong address; she arrived with no books. 

But, two books with the same author, same title, but from two different book vendors never made it to either TX address. This was to be the key text for my new MA Social Problems class. Lost in the postal system where services is not king. Okay, mistakes happen.

She flies elevated frequent flier status, negating extra luggage charges, so it would have been great for her to bring them over, but now she will not be returning until September. Too late, so I will have to bargain with the devil to have Ron cart them back praying he is not dinged for extra weight. With that in mind, I had her send the rest of the books USPS to Ron's niece. 

She mailed them. They never arrived. Out of desperation, I finally broke down and ordered one of the titles to be shipped here to the university.

Ron introduced me to this Australian wine called Hardy's Bin 343, which I quite like. I am not a wine drinker, usually sitting out the wine tastings in CA, South Africa, and Australia. Sometimes, I taste and dump the rest of the sample much to the chagrin of others. But with Ron gone, me left to handle things here, the weather being lousy, State Exams to put up with, and the stress of loss of books, I have enjoyed the nip of wine each evening. My nips seem to be progressing from small wine glass to larger wine glass, to large juice and then water glasses. I seem to have plowed through Bin 343 working my way to Bin 379. Who knew grapes could be so tasty.

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The Missing Book

When I knew Ron was going back to the States, I started ordering books for him to bring back for me. Many of them were books I would use for teaching in the fall semester. Hunting for the best prices, I ordered from a variety of sources and then had them sent to his friend’s home in Iowa.

When he had left this friend’s home and was on his way to another friend who was hours away, I received an e-mail from her saying Ron had left one book behind. It was an essential book for a new course I would be offering in the upcoming term, so I had to have it. I suggested Ron turn back and get it, but it was not viable. The alternative was Postal Express via the USPS. She shipped it the next day, Monday. I insisted on paying the costs, knowing they would be beyond her budget regardless of her generous nature.

On the following Friday, the downstairs door buzzer starts ringing at 7:30 am. Having unsteady nerves with any buzzing, alarm, or beeping sounds since the burglar alarm incident, I jumped out of bed as Ron was asking "Who is that?" I keep telling him my psychic powers have dwindled with age, but he insists I should know these things. My initial thought was that we overbooked our rooms again. Oh, dear!!!

When I answered the intercom, a male voice said something not comprehensible, but it could have been the hour. When I asked again, I swore he said "Steve Turner". My mind raced, but I knew we were not expecting any Steve Turner. Finally, he said "Is THIS Ryan James?" Well if you can name me, I will let you in the building. Minutes passed as the elevator cranked up to the fourth floor and a short man in a postal uniform appeared at the door. "I need your passport, is how he opened the conversation. Forgetting I am now a resident with proper ID, I went for the passport, signed my name and received a package. My book arrived officially at 7:39 am.

$33.50 and "the check is in the mail", seriously!

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