Saturday, February 6, 2021
Recipient:
Mark, the whistling mail carrier, Platt Park, Denver
I was out for a walk with my sweetheart Mike today when I heard a wonderfully robust whistle coming from who knows where. Turns out it was a mail carrier, walking from house to house, whistling a tune I couldn’t identify but could hear from a block away.
My whistling is wispy and unimpressive, so it tickles me pink to hear someone who’s got the goods.
I hurried to catch up with him as Mike, accustomed to this sort of behavior from me, trailed behind. The purveyor of post took out his earbuds to listen as I asked his name and explained what I was up to and why. Mark told us he was listening to a live (authorized) recording of an Elton John concert he had actually attended a few years back. We were catching him whistling along to “Bennie and the Jets” and reliving a good memory. We thanked him for his time and the entertainment, and he returned to his route and his music.
We passed this on our return trip. Having had a poster of this image on my bedroom wall as a tween (Darryl Hall was so dreamy), it immediately caught my attention. Reading the text caused me an out-loud cackle-snort and I had to leave an award in the mailbox. As it turns out, the people were just exiting as I turned toward their house. The woman was quite pleased that we enjoyed the parody. “My husband said nobody would get it!” Madam, we most certainly did.
Thoughts:
Moments of connection are out there, little
miracles waiting to happen.
A spoonful of humor helps the message go down.
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