A dump truck pulled up to my house the other day. That familiar scream from its rear warning siren burned a hole in the air as it backed into my driveway, lifted its payload bay and discarded its contents upon my yard. The day’s supply of Christmas catalogs had arrived. With rake in hand, I thanked the driver, told him I would see him tomorrow and went about scattering the glossy magazines about the yard. My goodness, it has been a bountiful harvest. There are so many. All shapes and sizes. All makes and models — species and breeds. Every variety. Every taste. It scares me, and yet, it’s also kind of exciting. Christmas is coming my friends — get out the shovel! I do and I don’t hate Christmas catalog season, when the glossies emerge from whatever nooks and crannies they’ve been hibernating in and swarm the world like hordes of termites. “Don’t” because they swell my mailbox, making it look like a blowfish sucking on an air hose, the poor thing giving at the seams and holding on for dear life. My coffee table is bent under their weight, the recycling bin requires me to hire a man and his burro to help carry them out and no sooner does a new batch go, a new one knocks at the door. An organization called New American Dream counts cutting down junk mail as one of its causes, and keeps a fascinating fact sheet with all manner of incredible … Continue reading Here Come the Christmas Catalogs