Tomorrow is Martin Luther King, Jr.’s, Unbirthday, so there’s no mail tomorrow. I bundled up and picked up Saturday’s Wall Street Journal, which we don’t get until Sunday.
I keep forgetting about that Unbirthday, so I don’t factor it in when I write to Charlie. But then I remember that Charlie keeps track of days when no mail comes. He’s always done that.
His is the only letter I write designed to get anywhere on a specific day. He’s also a creature of ritual and likes certain things done certain ways. I guess there is a form of security in that.
I haven’t read the Wall Street Journal for years, but I enjoyed it when I did read it.