The mysterious package arrived: my absentee ballot, rushed over after I (and, more, my brother, a middling figure in central Jersey political machinery) nudged about not having gotten mine yet. They sent it Global Priority Mail, with a self-addressed stamped Global Priority envelope inside -- so the county put at least US$34.00 to be sure I had the chance to vote. Considering how Florida is going to great lengths to be sure no hint of legitimacy mars their polling, it's delightful to see New Jersey working so hard to get it right.
So nothing odd happened while mailing -- oh, who am I kidding. The first problem was while the county included postage, it was U.S. postage, not Singaporean. Mail has to start with local postage or international reply coupons. US$17 wasted on their part; S$30 charged on mine.
Next was the envelope. I had an envelope, the big tough plastic Global Priority envelope with a binder-type plastic spine sealing it. The clerk said this was too big for their envelopes; could it be folded -- oh, no, because of the binder. I needed an envelope to send it in. ``Why can't I use this envelope as the envelope,'' I asked, repeatedly. Finally she agreed (after checking with the other clerk) that yes, this envelope could in this context be regarded as satisfying the definition of an envelope.
It needed a new Speedpost delivery slip, duplicating the addressing information on the Global Priority delivery slip. She figured to put the Speedpost slip over the Global Priority slip. So having re-addressed and re-stamped the self-addressed stamped envelope, I went off in search of a cashcard refund, a bit of nonsense to be discussed another time. I included a thank-you note.
The Red Sox won the World Series? That violates natural law, like Charlie Brown kicking the football. Knock that silly stuff off right this minute. Next you'll try telling me there was a competent episode of Enterprise.
Trivia: The five original soups made by what became the Campbell Soup Company were tomato, vegetable, chicken, consommé, and oxtail. Source: New Jersey Firsts, Harry Armstrong and Tom Wilk.
Currently Reading: The Most Unsordid Act: Lend-Lease, 1939-1941, Warren F. Kimball.