Seattle, Washington
Written in the last week of August, 2008.

NEWS

1. NOVEL - An agreement has been reached with Amazon to make my novel, Third Wish, available via their Kindle electronic download program in time for the holidays. Amazon should be posting the details in September on their website, where information about Kindle is available now. The print edition of Third Wish is in production and will be available in February through Amazon. Onward!

2. BACK TO SCHOOL - On September 3 I have the honor of addressing the assembled student body of the John Hay Elementary School - across the street from my house. I’ve often written about the school and what I learn as its neighbor. And many fine memories of my childhood are associated with Back to School, so I’m as wired up for this privileged encounter as I was long ago. What shall I wear? What version of a lunch bucket shall I get? What food to bring? And, of course, I will need new school supplies as soon as possible. Don’t need a ruler, though. I still have mine from elementary school. But it’s an old ruler. Time for a new one. But I can hear the voice of my mother, “When they change the length of inches you can have a new ruler.” An inch still an inch. My ruler still works.

3. FAMILY DEVELOPMENTS - Youngest grandson’s voice cracked and changed in one week this summer. He’s almost 13, starting 7th grade, and taller than his mother. Suddenly he’s very talky - taking pleasure in using and hearing his new voice. Other signs of oncoming teen-hood: Two showers a day, hair gel, I-pod, and being as concerned in deciding what to wear back to school next week as is his grandfather.

4. MORE FAMILY DEVELOPMENTS - Youngest grand-daughter, 11, sister of the young man just mentioned, has been visited by the breast fairy over the summer. Time for a training bra, navel jewelry, and kitten heels. Wooha! She is my fashion adviser. Says I need a “hoody” and “bags” and “flips” for my back to school day. (A sweatshirt with a hood and cargo shorts with 10 pockets and flip-flop.) Why not? Imagine our shopping experience . . .

5. SPEAKING OF IMAGINATION - Imagine that you miss getting good mail so much that, on a whim, you signed up for your own private box at a nearby mail-handling store. Imagine that you decided to send yourself mail from time to time as you traveled around. Interesting stuff. Funny cards. Invitations. Ransom Notes. Letters of commendation. Imagine that you can enjoy doing this because your mind is so scattered that in a few days you will forget what you sent. Imagine that when you do remember that you have real mail and go to your box you are truly surprised. Wow! Look at all these envelopes and packages! And since you sent the stuff, you know it will all be good news. At least somebody loves you and thinks about you. Even if it’s only you. There’s no shame in this. It’s not a site to receive pornography or espionage or an illicit lover’s perfumed letters. You may wish it was, but No. Just a wiggy way to amuse yourself. So far so good.

Imagine this is your secret. Nobody but you knows about the box or the box number. And then. You go to your box, not expecting anything because you think you’ve got everything you sent you, but then, you’re not sure because you can’t remember. So you check. And the box is full of mail for you - letters, post cards, little packages. Imagine your surprise. Not a single piece of this mail looks familiar. Unless you’ve really lost your mind and started disguising your own handwriting, or unknowingly been traveling out of town overnight, you did not send you this mail.

Imagine the daze you walk away in. Somebody knows your secret. How?
Who? And why have they chosen this way of entertaining you? You could handle hate mail or dirty mail - especially if you knew the who and why.
But clever, anonymous, playful mail that makes you laugh and smile. Imagine what you would do next.

Would you play detective and try to discover your patron? Would you demand of the store that they explain the leak in your secret pipeline?
Would you take a wild guess and start flinging foolish mail at several suspects as a way of saying “Gotcha!”

Walking home from my mailbox with all these thoughts jumbling around in my head - with a second batch of great mail from my benefactor - I said outloud to myself, “Fulghum - do nothing. Be pleased. Enjoy.” Good advice.

But I did decide to do something. To tell this story on my website. As a way of saying to my kind and clever benefactor - I’m grateful for the foolish joy.