Unwanted

Last night I shredded papers. Included in my treasure drove of things to shred—nine sheets of address labels sent by various groups asking for support. Most of these groups were totally unknown to me despite their sheets of labels and monogramed  notepads.

I'm not a curmudgeon, but I do object to being bombarded with "free" gifts. I have a list of groups I support—groups where I know that most of the money actually goes to the listed charity. Giving me a sheet of labels is not going to do the trick.

Besides how many Americans would use up the labels? We know the post office is in dire trouble with fewer and fewer people posting letters. How many people do I know who write letters? How many people eschew email for a long snail mail correspondence? Personally I like the feel of a pen and the smooth sensual feel of good paper. Paper that accepts ink without allowing it to spread like a water seeping beyond its boundaries.

As for using the labels for bills—more and more people pay online. But I expect that the label mailers hope that their labels adorn holiday cards. Has technology cut into the number of cards sent—or has the cost of postage aided in the decline?

What could I do with nine sheets of labels—half with some error in either my address or name?

I've placed the notepads in a drawer, but whenever I use one of the sheets for a list or note I do experience some discomfort. I did not support the group, yet write on the pad sent with a letter soliciting a donation.

I don't want to shred the notepads. Perhaps what I should do is send back the items with a polite note—Thank you for thinking of me.