In the past two weeks, I have received solicitations from three different charities in the mail, and each of them have come with pre-printed labels bearing my address at the Weiner Longchamp Pavillion. There is a quid-pro-quo element inherent in the sending of these labels: “Look at how nice we are to send you free junk; now it’s your turn to be nice to us.” Well, I have no intention of giving my hard-earned cash to any of these charities at the present time or in the foreseeable future (which, due to my Wiccan powers, is about 87 years). But I have every intention of using these labels. What a time saver! And how pleasurable the simple act of peeling off a pre-addressed label and sticking it on a fresh envelope! (Even if the ones sent by the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society feature the schmoo-like comic-strip character Ziggy in various whimsical poses — jogger Ziggy, skater Ziggy, flower-smelling Ziggy, etc.) Of course, there is a niggling guilt that goes along with using one of these freebies, and maybe it is karmically wrong to put them on envelopes without giving to the charities. But the niggling guilt is done in by the joy of not having to write out a return address, which always results in a major hand cramp. So, to the charities I say: While you don’t have my money, you do have my thanks.

WHY I’M ANGRY TODAY
Revenge may be a dish best served cold. But leftover nachos are not.

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