Love Thy Neighbor

I’m not very good about checking my mailbox.

Especially now that I have a garage to park in (which is an amazing, ingenious luxury), sometimes I just don’t think to walk back out there. I also don’t use the front door very often, because I come in through the garage door.

Compounding this problem is the fact that I am not good about reading my mail either. I understand that this is not responsible adult behavior, bur really, my bills are almost all online, and I just don’t get a lot of mail that I need to open.

So when my friends dropped off their pup for me to watch last weekend, they (naturally) used the front door. They handed me an envelope that had been sitting on the doorstep, and I glanced at it and tossed it in the “mail basket.”  The mail basket was my mom’s idea, as a solution to the not-opening-or-going-through-my-mail issue. It all goes in a cute yellow basket, and every couple of weeks (or months) I go through it, shred it, or put it in a new pile somewhere else.

So, I finally got back to the innocuous little envelope from the porch. I thought maybe it was some sort of solicitation..  All it said on the front was:

Which seemed nice enough. So I opened it.

And received this thoughtful little surprise:

What the h- well, nevermind.

I opened the little pamphlet of holiday cheer and good tidings, and it got even worse.

Yep. That would be a business card. For Mr. Lynch, Ambassador for Christ. My neighbor who lives just a couple houses down, I believe.

There was also a poem, written by him, folded into the middle of the booklet. It’s on nice parchment paper. It is called Younger People than You.

So my immediate reaction was guilt and paranoia. I’m not sure what that says about me, except perhaps that I would’ve made a good Catholic.

“I haven’t even done anything!” I told myself. “Here. Since I moved. That anyone would know about…” I mentally tagged some stipulations onto that statement.

I haven’t thrown any loud parties. There hasn’t been a parade of different cars in the driveway (that would belong to a succession of tall, dark, and handsome suitors, of course). Just between us, I’d be happy with far less than a parade at this point. Heck, there hasn’t even been a pizza delivery car in the driveway, lest the neighbors think I can’t cook. I walk my dog on a leash. I drive like a grandma.  What about me screams “SINNER?”

My  general line on religion is “to each their own” although I could exercise a little more tolerance at times. But I try not to judge others, and I expect the same. As the wonderful Mr. Tolkien wrote, “not all those who wander are lost.”

I know I don’t need to concern myself with Mr. Lynch’s motivation. But I can’t help it. I’d say maybe he thinks my house is now a ‘college rental’, but the college nearby is Nazarene, so if I were a student there, I should be good in the salvation department. Maybe he’s noticed that my car doesn’t leave the house on Sunday mornings. And, okay, I know I let my lawn grow too long, and I didn’t rake the leaves, but eternal damnation just seems heavy-handed for crimes against landscaping!

Hell. Really Mr. Lynch? It just seems out of synch with the greeting on the front of the envelope.  If I sent out Christmas cards this year printed with Merry Christmas… You’re Going to Hell!, I can’t imagine they would be appreciated, except maybe by my college roommates…

As I was getting over the ‘alarm’ stage, and ready to laugh the whole thing off, something fell from inside the front cover of the pamphlet (no, I didnt read all nine pages of it, I skimmed, one, in the middle).

Okay. Game over. A dollar bill? Seriously?!

What is that supposed to be? A bribe? A Christmas present? A token of implied guilt?

I don’t know what Mr. David Lynch’s intentions were, and I don’t think that would become much clearer if I read the damn pamphlet, there was no church affiliation, or course of action prescribed. Maybe I’m just supposed to use the business card email?

I will tell you one thing-  I am now going to use that dollar to get into as much trouble as can possibly be had for less than the price of a coffee.

'Indecent Proposal 2: After the Economic Collapse'?

Or, more likely, I will never touch that bill again, because it’s just too weird.


~ by Lindsey on December 3, 2010.

5 Responses to “Love Thy Neighbor”

  1. Ugh, people like Mr. Lynch tick me off so bad! My husband is a minister and we’re absolutely APPALLED when people do stuff like this, or leaving a pamphlet instead of a tip at a restaurant. So not okay.

  2. I can see why you don’t open your mail! Felt good to laugh for the first time in a few days.

  3. lindsey, i love you. thank you for making my day!

  4. I think the best way is to give that Lynch’s dollar to a beggar, no?

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