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Today
I was awaiting some super-good news to befall a buddy in the way of a big performing
arts award, and I couldn’t stand it, so I took my 2-mile walk to town to run a
couple errands and do some magical thinking and wishing and hoping and…(earworm?*)
When I approached the bank (first errand), I heard but did not see the
Whistling Mailman, but he put me in good cheer. At the library, it was 2-for-1
DVD day, so I got Infamous (the other Truman Capote film) and The Upside of Anger (Joan Allen!) for
$1! At this point, I was pretty darn sure my pal would win his award!
Then
I escaped death not once, but twice! For what to my wondering eyes and ears should
appear, as I approached the parking garage, but the Whistling Mailman in his
mail truck. He opened his window-door to say hello. I asked him how he was.
“I’m
trying to stay out of the obits!”
“Me,
too,” I said, confessing to the vague Internet Quiz Death paranoia.
He
was sympathetic and almost whistled.
“Don’t run over me with your truck,” I said,
bravely walking in front of his government vehicle. He didn’t.
When
I got to the corner, he was stopped at the crosswalk, looking down at the mail.
His foot could slip off the brake, I thought, crossing with the light. It didn’t.
He opened his window-door again, and we kept up the open-air conversation.
“Thanks
for not killing me!” I called.
“What
did it say? Death by government vehicle?” he called back.
I
love our Whistling Mailman.
I
won’t be whistling, though: “A whistling maid and a cackling hen / Always come
to some bad end.” I’m glad I am able to cackle at my Internet Quiz Death, if still
a bit haunted by it. After all, Jan Hooks and Elizabeth Peña just died. Sigh… Loved
their work. At least I survived (spoiler alert!) past the age of the concierge
from The Elegance of the Hedgehog, by
Muriel Barbery!
But
my wishful thinking did not make my pal get the award. Instead, he graciously
congratulated another winner, and will move on to other things, and already
has. “World tour!”
*Bacharachround
Music: “Wishin’ and Hopin’” by Burt Bacharach (as sung by Dionne Warwick)(or as
whistled by the Whistling Mailman)
Love your mailman, too, and that Bacharach song!
ReplyDeleteI loved this story, even it was peppered with death.
ReplyDeletelet's get someone to paint a portrait of the Whistling Mailman's Mother.
ReplyDeleteExcellent idea. I might know someone.
ReplyDeleteThis reminds me of a friend of our store, who, if you ask her how she is, will reply gleefully, "I'm not dead!" To which I always reply with hearty congratulations, as I do to you now!
ReplyDelete