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Including a letter or packing slip in your media mail

November 27, 2018 by campbell Leave a Comment

A photo illustration of a hamburger in a box, and hand holding a stack of books emerging from the box, with text that says "media mail package" pointing at the books and text that says "non-qualifying first-class hamburger" indicating the hamburger

Inspected in accordance with standards in Domestic Mail Manual (DMM) 173.2.2

Yesterday I went to the post office to pick up a book a friend sent me. He sent the package by media mail, but the USPS delivered it postage due. The USPS had opened the package and inspected its contents to confirm eligibility for media mail rates. Additional first-class postage was due for a one-page letter my friend had enclosed with the book.

I paid the fifty cents due for the enclosed letter, and I received the package. It was stamped “Opened for inspection by USPS” and contained a slip explaining why extra postage was due.

The inspection didn’t surprise to me. Whenever I’ve sent a book by media mail, postal workers have always explained that media mail is subject to inspection. What was (or has been) a surprise to me was the postage due on the enclosed letter. This has been a recurring issue for me. In my experience the rule for enclosed personal messages in media mail has been applied inconsistently.

What happens to media mail when USPS determines it contains non-qualifying enclosures?

I have a PO box, and in my case, media mail that was sent to me was delivered to me postage due. I received a pick-up slip and had to pay additional postage. I’ve read differing accounts from other people of what might happen. One Amazon sellers reports that a USPS worker told her the package would be delivered postage due. Another Amazon seller reports that the package was returned with additional postage due.

What can you send with qualifying media mail? What can’t you send?

The standards for enclosures and attachments in noncommercial media mail are found in DMM 173.6.0. The standards for commercial mail are found in DMM 273.6.0.

In my case, I believe that the USPS inspector erred in his or her determination that the enclosed letter required additional postage. As of November 2018, it looks like these are the standards for enclosed letters (DMMM 173.6.4):

Incidental First-Class Mail matter may be enclosed in or attached to any Media Mail or Library Mail piece without payment of First-Class Mail postage. An incidental First-Class Mail attachment or enclosure must be matter that, if mailed separately, would require First-Class Mail postage, is closely associated with but secondary to the host piece, and is prepared so as not to interfere with postal processing. An incidental First-Class Mail attachment or enclosure may be a bill for the product or publication, a statement of account for past products or publications, or a personal message or greeting included with a product, publication, or parcel. Postage at the Media Mail or Library Mail price for the host piece is based on the combined weight of the host piece and the incidental First-Class Mail attachment or enclosure.

If you look at the standards linked above, you’ll also see that there are rules regarding enclosed invoices and written markings on qualifying materials.

So was additional postage really due?

The parts that look relevant for my purposes are:

  • “Closely associated with but secondary to the host piece”
  • “Prepared so as not to interfere with postal processing”
  • “May be … a personal message or greeting included with a product, publication, or parcel.”

In my case, the letter was a personal greeting to accompany the book. In the letter, my friend said hello and explained how he had found the book at used book sale. This seems to meet all the criteria explained above, and postage was paid based on the combined total weight of the host piece (the book) and the incidental letter. In my reading of the rules, no additional postage would be due.

I paid it anyway, because it was only fifty cents, I didn’t have the rules in front of me, and I’m not a crank who enjoys making scenes at the post office. But I am interested in what USPS rules do and don’t allow, hence this blog post.

How to avoid extra postage due for first-class enclosures in media mail?

Perhaps you enjoy sending personal emails or have an old fax machine you could dust off. I suggested to my friend that he try the placing the following boldfaced text at the top of his next first-class media mail enclosure:

“This incidental enclosure is a personal message or greeting closely associated with but secondary to the host piece, and it has been prepared so as not to interfere with postal processing. Media mail postage has been paid based on the combined weight of the host piece and this incidental enclosure. It should meet all criteria described in DMM 173.6.4, which describes when incidental first-class mail matter may be enclosed within media mail without payment of first-class postage. Thank you for your hard work and may the Force be with you.”

I’m interested in hearing whether others have had similar experiences. What happened? How have postal workers explained the rules to you?

Photo illustration component image credits: 1, 2

Excerpts from a letter to Flink (2018)

November 26, 2018 by campbell Leave a Comment

Banner image of tweezers holding a Soviet stamp of Lenin, speech bubble says "put me down this is serious, i dserve a srious font, goddammit," lower text says "Excerpts from a letter to Flink, Early 2018"

12 February 2018

Line drawing of a man slapping a patch on his chest, the patch has a Starfleet logo drawn on it and a speech bubble says "Riker to Bridge"

Snow is falling again. It’s right around freezing and doesn’t seem to want to stick. I sectioned up a bunch of firewood this morning so I have plenty in reserve for the next week or two.

Back in Iowa ten years ago I had a chainsaw — never used it. I think I may have had two chainsaws. But I would just buy firewood from friends or whoever. I never learned how to use a chainsaw properly.

Now I know better. Somewhat. It’s been a learning experience. I dulled the chain pretty quickly due to my carelessness — oops, I forgot to add chain lubricant, oops, I chainsawed a rock — but the good news is I’m more on top of my chainsaw maintenance game now than ever before.

YouTube is pretty cool; it taught me how to sharpen a chainsaw properly. The first video was a Russian guy being like, “A tree fell down in my yard; let’s do a chainsaw tutorial. File kit ready, set, sharpen!” Then there was a dude filming his dad sharpening a chainsaw, not as good as the first video but still a couple handy pointers. And finally an ADHD Canadian lumberjack dude with lots of fully explained asides: “Who’s calling? Hold on, I have to get this — it could be the cable company.”

19 February 2018

My folks are in town for the weekend and it’s good to see them. It’s good to be like, “Hey, would you like to hold the baby?” And then I can, well, I guess what I probably should have done was take a shower.

Collage of a ticket to an event called "Why monuments matter" and a line drawing of a water filter pumping into a water bag

10 April 2018

Hey man. Greetings from a Trader Joe’s parking lot in Phoenix, where I’m hanging out in the back of the family SUV with my overtired seven-month-old son while Mandy shops for dinner. Max got his flat-head-fixer-upper helmet today, and we’re enjoying the blazing-but-not-brutally hot upper 90s Phoenix temps. Public comments on the scoping phase for Grand Staircase-Escalante and Bears Ears’ new management plans are due soon, and I knocked out a rough draft of those earlier today while Max was sleeping, so, you know, civics, I guess.

A colorful collage of a grapefruit juice label with marker-colored technical drawing and an outline of a woman's figure full of numbers, and text that says "Rhapsodic utterances of joy"

26 April 2018

Good morning, Flink! It’s 5:41 am and the sun is just about to rise because this is Arizona and Arizona knows that Daylight Savings Time is for chump states. Arizona is a Benjamin Franklin state, early to bed and early to rise, especially for light-sensitive babies!

Did you know: in June the sun will never set any later than 7:49 pm … but the sky will begin to get light at 3:22 am! I mean, I’m being dramatic here, 3:22 am is Arizona’s earliest astronomical twilight, which begins in the morning when the sun is 18° below the horizon. I guess if I really want to be fair I should tell you that astronomical twilight ends after sunset at 9:38 pm on the solstice.

Well, that concludes today’s installment of Arizona star talk; thank you for listening to me bitch about the movements of the sun and earth.

Collage of a southwest sky and text that says "Double Burgers: In our own way, we each found wonder"

01 May 2018

The power is out. I was sitting at my desk, getting stuff done, and then: Beeeeeoooowooprt. Everything electronic was dead and I was like, “Okay, now what?” Well, now I’ll write to Flink and complain about the frequency of power outages in general and also the inconvenience of this outage specifically.

I vividly recall your last email to me, which included the following request (quoted verbatim from memory): “Mike, in your next letter, please be sure to complain at great lenth about minor inconveniences over which you have no control.”

And I thought, man that’s a tall order, but anything for Flink. He is a true friend and if he wants to read about the fact that sometimes it is too windy and sometimes when the honey in the cupboard is too old it crystallizes and won’t pour smoothly and sometimes — oh my, I can’t think of anything else to complain about; I am sorry, I must have deeply disappointed you here.

I had hoped the power would be back on by now so I could be like, “Complaining works again!” but nope, guess I gotta complain about how complaining doesn’t work.

A collage of two tents in the desert with cacti, and text that says "Monday to Friday 3-5 pm"

A long handwritten block of text criticizing the misogynistic behavior of the members of Led Zeppelin

A collage of father and son on a surfboard, with text that says "2-topping" and "the prof and the pontiff"

Knowledge is a beautiful thing

November 19, 2018 by campbell Leave a Comment

Collage of a woman's face with engine-building advice and text that says "Knowledge is a beautiful thing"

Will more cylinder-head flow always make more power?

The intake-port numbers primarily establish the engine RPM where peak power occurs, and for best results should be matched to a complementary camshaft.

KNOWLEDGE IS A BEAUTIFUL THING.

The Story of Mozart (Composer)

October 29, 2018 by campbell Leave a Comment

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was born a baby, the son of a grand piano and a domineering mule deer father.

Drawing of a mule deer standing by a piano with a baby in it

The elder Mozart recognized his son’s skills, and worked to develop them.

Drawing of a mule deer watching a baby play piano

Soon young Mozart was thrilling the most important people in Europe.

Drawing of a man in religious garb watching Mozart play piano

Then Mozart became an adult, and things went haywire. He developed a drug problem.

Drawing of Mozart about to hit rock bottom

It was then that Mozart wrote his famous series of “gutter concertos.”

Drawing of Mozart sprawled on the ground, writing a concerto with a quill pen

Soon he was back on top …

Drawing of an irresponsible Mozart in a hot-rod carriage

But he quickly spent it all.

Drawing of Mozart sprawled on the ground, having difficulty with his life

Then Mozart’s dad died and Mozart got really sick.

Drawing of Mozart sick in bed.

It was the end. The genius was dead.

Drawing of Mozart's tombstone

Safety third: Correspondence between expectant fathers (2017)

October 22, 2018 by campbell Leave a Comment

A "Marvin the Martian" USB stick sits between a letter and an advent calendar.

In 2017, my friend Matt and I were both expectant fathers. We exchanged correspondence on the subject, and on other related (and unrelated) matters.

Matt’s letter to me took the form of a single page with a “Springtime 2017” advent calendar made out of balsa wood and an airplane-safety handout. The doors in the advent calendar hid a number of small gifts, mainly with alcohol, but also weird random knick-knacks. Matt also included a mixtape on a Marvin the Martian USB stick.

My response to Matt was a long letter. It had no clever advent calendar.

Letter from Matt to Me

27 April 2017

Time · Highway · Space
*Safety third

Mr. Campbell,

A letter, a USB stick, and an advent calendar.Please enjoy the following multimedia experience. Before listening to the playlist on Marvin, clear your schedule for the evening and have a few beers handy. The doors on this advent calendar needn’t be opened in any particular order but I’d suggest one per song.

Last summer I crashed my motorcycle. If I had died my last words would have been, “Whoa whoa whoa!” Nobody would have known that but it would have been true.

I didn’t die though. Didn’t really even get hurt. A few months later and I’m going to be a father. You are too. Nothing has killed us yet. Over the past few years, I’ve come to believe that it’s a bit ungrateful not to procreate. All the suffering and joy from your folks back to the cave and the savannah … it all ends with you unless you pass it on. The world needs more of your kind and I think my kind too.

01 May 2017

⨁ So Miranda’s dad is old and was born in Canada. I needed to find her parents’ birth certificate to get a Canadian passport for Miranda and then … my son. I never thought I’d make a Canadian but there you go. Anyways. Her grandparents were born in 1895 and 1893 respectively. That just seems so long ago.

02 May 2017

⨁ Yesterday evening I had my second-to-last appointment for a tattoo I’ve been working on. It covers my right arm and involves a couple of mammoths and some hummingbirds and vegetation. Why are there hummingbirds only in the Americas? What is the shared ancestor between a Rhodopis vesper and a T-rex? What does mammoth taste like? I’ve been following developments with CRISPR and I’m looking forward to the chaos I believe that technology will create. The future is going to be fun.

Matt

An advent calendar that's also somehow a letter from a friend.

Letter from Me to Matt

25 June 2017

A cartoon drawing of an amphibian sitting on a stool, with text that says "25 June 2017" and the time (12:34 am) below

Oh fuck Matt — It’s good to be writing to you. Hello from Arizona!

Your wedding is impending, both our life partners are swole with babby,1 and I am drunk. Yes — it’s true — reports to the contrary are sketchy and unreliable — I am drunk.

About a month ago I met some struggling hikers on Grand Canyon’s Bright Angel Trail on a hot day. I loaned one of them a spare set of hiking poles. They delivered them back to my house that night. Later, a six-pack of assorted beers appeared on my front porch as if by magic.

Per your instructions, before opening the doors on your springtime advent calendar, I drank some of this beer. I read the letter itself last month as soon as it arrived. “Have time and beers ready” it advised … and so I waited until I did. Tonight was the first night I opened the doors on the rest of the advent calendar. I expected more pages of written word, but instead found the mini-bottles of Jameson and Jim Beam contained within.

Now I’m listening to your mix, thinking of visiting wrecked aircraft in eastern Oregon, marveling at how we both turned out to be fairly well-adjusted, in-love fathers-to-be.

panoramic image of wrecked jet in the desert
A trip with Matt in 2013, visiting wrecked aircraft in the desert.

This weekend, Mandy is down in Sedona with some friends for a pre-baby getaway weekend. She has planned several such weekends. We did one back in March that was intended to be our last pre-baby camping trip. Instead we wound up staying with friends who live near Lake Powell, because the campsite we selected was surrounded by drunk noisy dudes who drove jacked-up full-size trucks with expensive-looking rims, low-profile tires, and lots of bolt-on chromed accessories. Just big dumb pointless trucks.

Right after I moved to Arizona, our first Christmas here, we went to Joshua Tree. There I saw a full-size Ford van with a 4×4 conversion and a dually conversion. It’s like, “Bro, what is the point of this van? Is it an off-road adventure fun-time vessel, or is this a highway-centric tow rig … thing?”

And the van had no good answer, because in trying to be all things, it was nothing.

A photo of a weird dually 4x4 full-size van that serves no clear purpose, parked between a Prius and a small dog, with a lowrider S-10 in the background
What the hell is this van for

Image of the Great Basin region and Grand Canyon as photographed from the ISSWhoa, there is ska-type stuff on the mix that reminds me of junior year of high school. Ever listen to Operation Ivy?

Oh man, this mix just got heavy again.

I have an app on my phone that tells me what’s in the sky. It tells me when the space station will fly over Grand Canyon. This is the coolest: Men and women living in a sky house flying over a canyon hundreds of miles long, thousands of square miles of one huge canyon. Well, it’s a complex of canyons, really. I’m the only one who says: “Let’s call it Grand Canyons National Park.” Five trillion cubic yards of rock obviously missing, not counting Mesozoic strata stripped from the plateaus entirely. Dudes and ladies flying in a sky house over a place so big it scares people. That’s cool.

An image of spinal injury management practices updated in September 2014

This stuff on spine injury management reminds me: Be safe on that motorcycle, man! You know, if I had died in that pig attack, my last words would have been, well, I guess “help” is the only thing I remember saying, loudly and alone. Maybe I also said, “This is not good” … But on the flip side, maybe I only thought that while looking at my leg bones.

But let’s say that the tusk had been another 1.5 inches toward my femoral artery — well then probably I would have died in the woods. But suppose I had bled to death in the ambulance. “Am I going to keep my legs?” would have been perhaps my last words. Or maybe just an F-bomb would have been my last words; I don’t know, really. The dude in Portland who — you know, maybe I should focus on positive stuff.

Handwritten text in a box that says "We are both alive"

We are both alive.

Yeah, man. We did it. It’s the year 2017 and neither of us screwed up so badly that we can’t write letters to one another.

Gene editing is going to be awesome. My hope is that when the Greenland ice sheet melts we go all Pleistocene Park on the island, just seed some tundra plants and drop in mastodons, cave bear, you name it. Let’s have the scientists make some monsters.

I was talking to a biologist about re-introducing wolves, and we were both like, “Yeah, deadly creatures make nature better.” I should write more when I’m sober and can better articulate my thoughts.

A wooly mammoth attacks a caveman, while his bros express disbelief and fear, and a king informs them to "Believe it my bros, nature is deadly."

19 July 2017

We’re both married now and we both have babies on the way. That’s pretty cool. So now we have to be good dads. I’ve been thinking a lot about that … how do I raise a son who’s better at living in the world than I am?

Obviously the answer is to draft a list of all humankind’s major accomplishments and provide experiential education in each one.

Mastering fire is our first huge accomplishment as a species, but this skill will not be taught until my son is at least 25 years old, because I’m extremely overprotective.

Image of a bonfire with text that says "Danger: Fire not intended for children under 25 years old"

And then there’s toolmaking. I guess I can make custom Play-Doh extruders with him early on, and then teach stone knife-making when I teach fire stuff.

Agriculture is a big one — easy enough, let’s plant carrots, etc — but probably that was preceded by the development of art and music. “Here are some crayons; go to town. Sing along to my collection of They Might Be Giants albums.”

Animal domestication: He gets to feed the dog, but while he’s doing that I’ll explain how Romulus and Remus were suckled by a she-wolf before Romulus killed Remus and founded Rome. Tales of fratricide are another majour — oops, I used the British spelling — another major human, you know, thing, and this is where we begin to learn the difference between stories and reality and also the fact that internecine violence is strictly forbidden in this household.

An old drawing of the Capitolene Wolf; Romulus and Remus suckle from the she-wolf, with text bubbles from the wolf that say "Do you realize we're floating in space?"
Wayne Coyne’s mom (old family song)
An old drawing of Hammurabi
Hammurabi prepares to karate-chop a dude for violating his code (moving vehicle infraction)

And boom, there’s our lead-in to Hammurabi and the development of codified law. “You see son, before Hammurabi they could just chop your head off for no reason. After Hammurabi, they could still chop your head off, but there was a mutual understanding that it would specifically be for one of the reasons Hammurabi had written down ahead of time. By the way, capitas is latin for ‘head’; remember that for no reason.”

I don’t know what next; I guess maybe we spend the next ten years building a printing press or something.

23 July 2017
Sunday · 8:41 am

Hey man, I just had a thought. How awesome would it be if [our estranged former friend from Vermont who I will here call Billy] totally got his shit together over the last ten years?

Like what if we were in a parking lot, and you were like, whoa, who’s that guy parking that mint condition 1980s Audi sport coupé? It looks like — could it be — “Why hello, gentlemen,” says a surprisingly well-groomed man with excellent diction. It is! It’s [Billy]! Where has he been? “While you idiots were busy getting divorces, I moved in with my parents, and, after a period of turmoil and struggle, fully devoted myself to my personal well-being and financial stability. I documented this process in my best-selling book, The Green Mountain Method of Self-Improvement. You may not have heard of it, because many of the sales were to francophone Canadians who purchased the French-language translation, Methodique L’Monte de Gruyere por la Bién du Personnelle.”

And we would both be like, “Whaaaat,” and then he’d speed away.

A crashed Audi quattro sport coupe
Here you go, an Audio Quattro sport coupé in its natural state
Sunflower about to bloom
Garden, 2017. Sunflower about to bloom.

Confused, you would turn to me and ask, “Why did he speed away immediately after parking his car and announcing his success? Also, I don’t think that was an accurate translation.”

“Look,” I would patiently explain, “if you can think of a more realistic scenario where [Billy] reappears in our lives, I’m all ears.”

Anyway, this morning I took a lamp apart and was like, “Ah ha! Here’s the problem.” It was just one more chore to do before the baby arrives: Fix the baby lamp. I have a to-do list that’s a mile long, but it’s important to take time doing stuff like this, writing letters, hypothesizing about people you haven’t seen in over a decade.

It’s summer. It’s monsoon season. The garden is going bananas except squirrels and voles keep eating all our food. Happy woodland creatures who just want to mess our garden up. Mandy and I drive a station wagon now. Mercedes parts are expensive and German engineering is overrated. You have to remove a crossmember and disconnect the driveshaft to change the fluid in the transfer case.

31 July 2017
Monday · 11:54 am

Hey, so here it is almost August. My baby is born next month. Man, I’m not ready to be a father yet — I still gotta clean the garage!

1:20 pm

If I made a reference to Airwolf, you would get that reference, right? I suspect a lot of people would. But how many of those reference-getters could describe anything about the plot of Airwolf? Could you? I know I couldn’t. What a shitty TV show; everyone remembers it, but no one remembers anything about it. Like, nothing. Except it had a helicopter. Presumably it is the titular helicopter, but even that’s uncertain.

Can you imagine the pitch meeting for Airwolf? “You already know Knight Rider. Well do you like helicopters?”

Even with Knight Rider we remember things about it. Talking car. Funny steering wheel. The car frequently addressed its driver, Michael, by name. And because of these memorable elements, even today nerds on the Internet waste perfectly good Pontiac Trans Ams turning them into Knight Rider cars.

These nerd-built cars are lame. They can’t really talk. Siri is closer to being an authentic Knight Industries Two Thousand (K.I.T.T.) than the knock-off Internet hoopties.

A cartoon drawing of a crazed-looking wolf suspended in midair by a helium balloon, with the phrase "Airwolf" written below in a 1980s heavy-metal font

10 August 2017
Thursday · 8:10 am

What’s up man? How are you doing? You must be doing great, because you’re reading this.

“Ha ha,” you chuckle, thinking to yourself as you read this, “I am great; I am alive and well; mean old Death can’t catch me, and I know his shameful secret: He only carries that great big scythe2 because he’s so insecure about his manhood.”

The figure of Death, depicted as a skeleton man with a scythe, says "Hey bro," but big text says, "Sorry, Death. Not today, man."

You chuckle to yourself again: His genitals are probably a brittle little chicken bone, because death is a skeleton man.

From the next room, Miranda, swole large with baby, hears you laughing. “My darling, my dear, my sweet life partner — what has amused you so? You titanic honey bucket, you.”

“Death has a chicken bone dick,” you announce, and Miranda laughs so hard the baby is instantly born. Thank goodness she was standing on those extra-soft pillows designed especially for surprise births.

“Looks like our investment in the Turbo-Labor Feathersoft Delivery Pillows really paid off!” she exclaims, cradling your newborn son.

You are proud; you have bested Death extra big-time today.

“What shall we name our son?” Miranda asks.

You think for a moment. In fact, you are a little surprised that the subject of what to name him was never even discussed until now. Oh well. No regrets, ever. It is time to bestow upon your son a name laden with meaning and honor.

“His name,” you say, “shall be Michael Campbell3 Lucky4 Onca5 Green Mountain6 Land Cruiser7 the First.”

A beatific smile spreads across Miranda’s face: “We’ll call him Motorcycle8 for short.”

USA
About a month ago
08.15.17

Newspaper headline saying "Massive iceberg nearly the size of Delaware breaks off Antarctica," and handwritten text that says "page nine" and the current date
Headline that says "No penguins harmed in making of trillion-ton iceberg"

Headline that says "But Antarctic shelf hits close to home"

Dateline: Planet Earth! A great big iceberg fell into the ocean! That’s totally normal right? Good news! All the penguins are okay!

King of the Penguins Poppy Fishguts issued a statement from his Antarctic Ice Fortress: “A great species has been moved to defend a great continent. Iceberg calvings can shake our biggest ice sheets, but they cannot touch the foundation of Penguinland, a landmass better known to outsiders as Antarctica. These acts shatter ice, but they cannot melt the ice of penguin resolve.”

Text that says "USA Today" and "07.13.17"King Poppy Fishguts then vomited a massive amount of semi-digested herrings into the mouths of all his nation’s young.

Economic effects of the iceberg calving are unclear, as the McMurdo International Stock Exchange was shut down shortly after the giant ice block broke free. Real estate markets, however, may be in turmoil.

Jake “Big Beak” Gooser, president of the National Penguin Realtor Association, framed the issue as one of reduced supply, uncertain demand, and limited stock of new housing-ready ice coming online in the next six to sixty-thousand months.

Image of full page of headlines and text about iceberg and penguins“On the one hand, there’s less ice now, so all existing ice should be more valuable,” said Mr. Gooser. “On the other hand, will it too fall into the sea? Might such concerns suppress demand? One things is for sure: Buy ice, they’re not making any more of it.”

16 Aug ’17

Well, it’s probably time to wrap up this here letter. We’ve had a good time, shared a lot of laughs, and now it’s time to ride.

What does the future hold for us? Time will tell. Poopy diapers, the amazing miracle of life, and more poopy diapers. Are you psyched man? I don’t know, I’m like more psyched/terrified-of-failure than just straight-up pure psyched. Tell you what though, we’re gonna do this good, I know.

Babies are weird, man, they spend all this time living in a uterus, never realizing that their home is a literally a giant muscle, and then one day … bam! Their home is like, “Goodbye! I’m squeezing you out.”

And they’re like, “Wait, that thing there is a door?” And then they’re like, “Ohhhhh nooooooooo,” and their first words are just crying and crying, the baby equivalent of “whoa whoa whoa” because they don’t know how to talk.

But they do okay. They’re like, “What’s this … air? I’m breathing, man!”

kriss kross album cover with backwards clothingAnd then they grow up, get friends who are assholes, drift away from their asshole friends (much to our relief), and make new friends. And if they ever get too interested in stupid stuff it’s our job to be like, “Are you serious? Put those pants on the right way. Jesus. Do you even know what ‘Totally Krossed Out’ means? You’re gonna jump-jump your way right to a grounding if you don’t straighten up young man. Again, I repeat myself, Jesus.”

And then they’re like, “I bet you wore backwards pants all the time when you were a kid,” and we’re like, “No, never, not even with a backwards shirt and backwards sunglasses and a depiction of a goateed face shaved into the back of my head.”

Oh god, I’m going to be a total ogre of a father, aren’t I? I’ve got to be cool. “Son, this is Led Zeppelin. Listen to them, but never be like them; they were sexist self-absorbed asshole idiots.”

“Got it, Pop,” he’ll say, and I’ll know my work is complete.

Anyway. It’s always good to hear from you, my man, and always good to write to you. Come visit soon. Be safe and have fun. Drive defensively.

—Mike.

Handwritten text that says "We got htis fatherhood thing, dude, we'll figure it out, get psyched"

Footnotes:

1. Yes, I meant to write “babby”; it is pronounced just as it is spelled.↩
2. Once I had a roommate who worked for the county coroner, and they went to retrieve the body of a man who lived (and died) alone in his house, and right next to his bed was a huge scythe, and they were like, “DAMN.”↩
3. My name.↩
4. The name of Matt’s first dog.↩
5. The name of Matt’s second dog.↩
6. A reference to Matt’s home state of Vermont.↩
7. A popular and versatile 4-wheel-drive vehicle manufactured by Toyota that Matt once owned.↩
8. Motorcycle = motorcycle.↩
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Latest sketchbook

A postcard collage of an old woman wearing sunglasses and saying "lentils lentils lentils lentils lentils"

Lentils lentils lentils lentils lentils lentils

Latest photo

A photo of the Grand Canon on a sunny day, with a tilt-shift effect applied in post-processing.

Some desktop-wallpaper-sized photos from my last trip to Grand Canyon.

Recent projects

Illustration of Jar Jar sitting in front of a gas station.

Star Wars Camping Adventures: Episode One

photo of Grand Canyon

Public comments on proposed revisions to NPS Director’s Order 21

Photograph of blue VW Vanagon in the desert, with the phrase Greetings from the Back of My Van overlaid above it

Greetings from the Back of My Van

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    • Iowa Field Recordings, June 2010

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