The role of the mailman is alarmingly underplayed in relation to the value of service he offers to such an auspicious yet thankless society. Already about and conducting his business hours before the most esteemed of men have awoken from their luxurious slumbers, this invisible agent of information is with a light heart dispatching the paltry dialogues of indolent and entitled individuals, which cannot wait until a later time in the day, for nothing pleases the average person more than opening the mailbox shortly after waking and discovering that someone has cared to relay their sentiments and magically succeeded! What would there be to read otherwise? The newspapers are far too impersonal. The mailman of course is above all this. He knows the world as gathered from his own perspective and therefore needs not be bothered by someone else's feeble attempts at imparting knowledge. He is like a ghost, up at dawn and ahead of the world, reveling in his own narrow window of silence, until all is muddled by the noise of envelopes opening and the outflow of their contents, signifying a job well done and a withdraw from the world until tomorrow. He executes his influence merely out of duty, but lives with the mirth that accompanies the dignity of not needing to be reminded. His pursuits are surely of a noble nature.
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