Before Christmas, the daily arrival of catalogues was alarming. I have an old wooden bread dough container where I keep a half-dozen old-time, long-time booklets which might get used once or twice a year. Soon the pile in the dough box was way over t
Before Christmas, the daily arrival of catalogues was alarming. I have an old wooden bread dough container where I keep a half-dozen old-time, long-time booklets which might get used once or twice a year. Soon the pile in the dough box was way over the edge and shiny catalogues were sliding off onto the floor. One day I tossed out 23 unwanted sales books. The week before Christmas I threw away a full bag of these pesky advertisements â and another 40 went to the recycle bin. In between the box-cleaning, I threw away two or three each day.
What a terrible waste! Each time I was confronted with another one of these booklets I tried to guess what it probably cost to print and mail. It is staggering when you consider that many thousands are mailed each day â most of them ending up in households that donât even look them over.
After Christmas I was sure this onslaught would end. Not so. In alarming numbers, these little mailbox offers continued to arrive from all over the country.
As I write, I sit surrounded by neat piles of catalogues â seven from LL Bean, four from Landâs End, four from Miles Kimball, who wrote a note inside one booklet two years ago, saying it would be my last one because they hadnât heard from me in a long time. I still receive them regularly. One each from these piles will go back in the dough box â they are ones I might just order from someday. The other eight will all go to the recycle bin.
So will one where I could select from hundreds of medical-related items, so will the booklet that tries to induce me to purchase an amazing number of household gadgets I have never seen, never wanted, and donât need. So will two childrenâs clothing books and three that advertise only menâs wear. The four that are in the hardware business intrigue me â I love hardware stores, but about all I need to buy there now are light bulbs, batteries, and a supply of birdseed.
The book lists in some of the handouts intrigue me. I never throw one away until the general clean-out day. Often, I send these to Laurie, who teaches college evening classes and hoards books like I do. The catalogue that features china and glass goes out with no regrets. I have my own, my motherâs and a lot of items from three grandmothers.
The booklet that features mostly tires, filters, spark plugs, and car-related items might as well be written in Greek. It goes out. There are now three collections of paper goods in the current booklet. I saved one so I can order a few greeting cards and paper goods. Iâm throwing away the other three from there. I canât part with the Lighthouse Depot book. I have a few miniature lighthouses, two that light up, and a hundred lighthouse postcards. I also save the booklet featuring canning and jelly making items; that also goes to Laurie.
Room wouldnât permit a listing of all the clothing advertised in about 11 books I have received since Christmas. I am not interested in them so out they go. I add to the pile a wonderful book featuring âcountryâ things like exotic gifts, bird feeders, rustic furniture, and many things I like but donât need.
So it goes â food specialties from oranges to hams; jigsaw puzzles and games; animal supplies for cats, dogs, birds, and others; plants and garden supplies; curtains and bedding; candy and nuts and dried fruits â you name it and it will show up in your mailbox.
Not as easy to toss out are the beautiful seasonal catalogues from National Wildlife and National Geographic and the Audubon Society. They can stay awhile in the dough box. As I toss just one LL Bean catalogue in the dough box, I notice it states on the cover, âto get you ready for spring.â Thanks fellows, but believe me, I am ready for spring and donât need any help.
This week I received a pleasant call from Mrs Raab, a parent of a Sandy Hook school student, informing me that they still do have a Valentine Box and card exchange in her sonâs class. It was great to hear that some of the older traditions still exist!
Last week the comment that ended the column was by Vince Lombardi.
Who wrote, âThe two most beautiful words in the English language are: âcheck enclosedââ?