My mail is here and my awaited parcel is too. Callooh callay. And surprise surprise surprise. Although Canada’s and America’s respective border agencies now share details of *our* ins-&-outs, it seems that tracking packages is just too tricky: Against all expectation, there is no app for that. So, after leaving virtual breadcrumbs across several American States, my parcel disappeared from a New York distribution depot a few days ago. Last seen, headed North.
Now here it is, materializing out of the ether. As I carry it inside, I’m amused by the “DO NOT BEND” warning sticker. It would take a concerted effort to bend this corrugated cardboard wrapper.
I flip the package over to open it. What’s this on the back?
RATTLE NOISE OK
Are they reassuring me or the parcel-brigade? Is the communication “It isn’t broken” or “It isn’t dangerous”?
Maybe it’s both: Either would be considerate. And understandable, considering the content.
As I work through my exercise regime — heck, as I try to get out the car without grunting — it occurs to me that I might take a lesson in proactive, considerate communication. And, at the same time, I might have found my next t-shirt.