we should probably start off by saying this isnít some deep and
dark espionage situation. People werenít launching drones, placing
tracers on my vehicle, or setting up surveillance efforts in an
unmarked van across the street.
and Amazon have not reached out, are not conducting interviews
with me, and do not appear to be seeking the rights to some incredible
tale where a few gifted screenwriters could bring about a multi-episode
season of exciting suspense.
that I know of.
from this that I wasnít trying to hide, nor do I believe I was
the subject of some massive search. Still, I was most definitely
sought (and found). Sought (and found) in a casual, no ulterior
motives where someone actually is stalking me or my whereabouts.
Itís just a general observation.
you move, you understand that some change of address notifications
will need to be processed. Itís part of the ordeal. You know that.
I know that.
are prioritiesÖ like making sure your snack of the month club
package is delivered properly. Some are just funnyÖ because family
and friends need to know where they would have sent the card if
they decided to send one (even though they wonít).
since weíre being simple and naïve in who we set as those
looking for us and what types of scavenger hunts they conduct
to find us, we can basically agree that when you move, over time
pretty much everyone that needs your new address gets your new
recently I walked to the mailbox, retrieved the contents, and
while flipping through assorted envelopes and catalogs, I came
across a couple of pieces of mail that set my mind wandering.
was from a charitable organization. A group that does fine work.
Iím sure they are wonderful people. Terry and I simply have other
causes that are more personally important.
original connection to the group did begin with a donation though.
Terry and I were invited to a wedding about fifteen to twenty
years ago, and the couple suggested considering this group instead
of gifts. So yes, we had sent them money once, as wedding contribution
on behalf of the happy couple.
donation. Slightly less than two decades agoÖ and they have mailed
us material at every place weíve called home ever since. And here,
once again was an envelope with our names on the label.
second was from a group that has been sending me mail for almost
four decades. They have managed to send me mail at every address
Iíve ever called home. And when I say every address, I do indeed
mean all of them.
both of these cases, neither sender was on any of our change of
address lists. We werenít worried about hearing from them. We
hadnít accidentally forgotten to let them know where to send a
Christmas card. You could have asked us a thousand times to provide
some type of detailed list of places and organizations and people
and more that might at some time be mailing materials to us, and
we never would have included either of these groups.
there they were. Envelopes in our mailbox.
keep finding me. Over and over again.
have friends from olden days that arenít on Facebook. (That I
know of.) No Twitter. (That I know of.) Time moves on, things
in common become weaker connections, and eventually contact is
lost. Every so often, I check things out in an attempt to find
them. Google search and such. Usually end up with nothing, but
it should be noted Iím not looking to start a detailed stalking,
overnight surveillance or scavenger hunt of my own. Definitely
not seeking donations.
that donations word appears to be the key to all of this. Because
within that thought we seem to have the motivation for trying
to find me.
often fascinates me. Whether being sent to the generic current
resident, a former occupant, or directly to me or a member of
the family. I like getting mail. (Love getting cards.) But it
never ceases to amaze me when an unexpected source knows where
I should pay a bit more attention to those drones that have been