Address me carefully

One of my favorite jokes is short and sweet : “You can call me anything as long as you call me to dinner”. My father told me that funny many years ago and its one of the few I can remember easily due to its short and pithy punch line. Really, I don’t mind what people actually call me, but I’ll admit as manly as I try to be, I am a bit sensitive of how my name appears in print.

Between various organization’s normal marketing efforts and charity contributions, we often receive ‘free’ address labels along with a solicitation envelope for another hopeful donation. It used to be kind of a unique and welcomed promotion since it saved me writing our return address repeatedly at Christmas. But now, I think so many organizations have stepped into the fold, unless you move to a new house every month, you’ll never want to see your name in print again.

It must be very difficult for the places that actually want to SELL address labels. Why would I ever buy more of these things? I also used to purchase a rubber stamp with my current address on it. But with the advent of online bill payments and these charity address labels, who needs ‘em?

The real thing that drives me nuts about the charity address labels is that they always come with some kind of ‘icon’ on them. Now given my thrifty nature, it is impossible for me to throw away a perfectly good sticky label no matter what the graphics are. BUT even I start to cringe when those labels have a little gold butterfly on them or interlocked rainbow hearts next to my name and address. Better still, how about the labels with a Cupie doll character shedding a single tear or the silhouette of a sparkly ‘fairy’. My GOD, what man, except cheap old ME, would mail letters with this stuff by their name?

I am not slamming anyone’s lifestyle or choice in art. I like little cuddly panda bears and colorful umbrellas as much as the next girl. It’s just typically NOT the representative image that I introduce myself with when first meeting someone. Once they get to know me and my personality, then fine, let them see the real Oz – smiling ladybugs; pink bunnies; … go ahead, BRING ‘EM ON!

Also you would think with the vast amount of address labels out there, at least a few would be geared towards the male perspective or at least be a bit more edgy. I’d like to see some address labels with ‘underwear’ on them. Why not some kind of tool like a pair of pliers or my personal favorite, a ‘dogbone’ wrench? Men’s labels should be printed with big blocky letters so ‘rivets’ dot the ‘I’s’ rather than flowing, graceful script. Men are not delicate and clean – we like metal looking, wrinkled stuff with stains and oily grime all over it. Men still lick their labels – none of that girly self-adhesive for us!

Ok, enough ranting. I’ve got to get to the post office and mail off my Census form. I used a happy rainbow self-sticking return address label. The icon depicts people crawling under the U.S. border fence grabbing the pot of gold (No hidden message there?). It’s about to rain so I’ll unfurl my ‘strawberry shortcake’ child-size umbrella on my way out. Hmmm, I sure need to ‘man-up’ a bit more before people get the wrong idea. Anyone seen a can of WD-40 and my underpants?