“The Fine Print”, by M.H. Schrader

 

Multi-Tasking for Fathers

 

       Brother Stephen was pretty excited when I told him a couple of months ago that I had e-mail.  He pointed out that I was the first of the Schraders (and there are many, many of us) to have personal e-mail, and now he would have someone to send e-mail to.  And brother Stephen was true to his word--when I checked my messages on Father’s Day, one was a Father’s Day greeting from, you guessed it, brother Stephen.

       If I were an executive at Hallmark, I would be getting worried about stuff like that.  After all, if everybody sent e-mail, then there would be no reason to buy Hallmark cards.  The post office should be concerned, too.  If no one sends cards anymore, then they definitely won’t be buying stamps.  They may tell you that people will buy stamps regardless, as there are many, many stamp collectors out there.  If there are, they must be living in Idaho or something, because I have only met one---that’s right, one---person who has ever collected stamps.  Now Mrs. Schrader will buy the fancy stamps, but she uses them as stamps--after all, a good stamp is a terrible thing to waste.

       Electronic messages are a great thing for men.  First, they take all the emotion and sentiment out.  None of that mushy artsy stuff here, no way; just straight talk, or as the case may be, straight text.  Men have such a hard time dealing with emotion that any removal of it is a great thing.  It leaves more time for the important things in life, like fishing or watching football.

       Second, and more importantly, e-mail reduces the need to think, which in my case is extremely critical.  The more I have to think about things the less likely they are to get done, or at least that’s what Mrs. Schrader tells me.  I am quite impulsive (and some would say compulsive) by nature--I act on thoughts when I have them.  Why?  Well, let’s just say that I know that if I don’t I will lose that thought forever.  Sometimes, the thought is lost while I am in the process of acting on it.  Suddenly, I am in the middle of doing something and have no idea why I am doing it.  Of course, the solution to the problem is that I must make sure that my mind is completely empty (which, given that it is mostly empty, anyway, does not require too much effort) so that the only thought in my brain is the one that I am supposed to be acting on.  Then, when that action is done, that thought is discarded and a new task is programmed in my head.

       It’s this multi-tasking thing that gives me such problems with special days like Father’s Day.  To send Dad a card requires several different tasks, any one of which could go awry at any different time.  First, one must go to the store to buy a card.  I will go to the store and buy everything but.  Second, when at the store, one must select a card.  This is simple for Mrs. Schrader, but not for me.  Too many choices!  She is in and out; I’ve been know to stand in front of the cards for hours just trying to select a card.

       The next task is remembering who, or what, you bought the card for.  Sound simple?  Well...  I have had a card for the past decade that I move from house to house.  It’s a really cute card, but I have absolutely no idea who, or what, I bought it for.  And even if I did remember, I don’t know if the intended recipient would remember.  After all, it has been ten years.  Heck, I have a had time remembering what I did 10 minutes ago!

       The next step entails signing the card.  I always hope that if I wait long enough a little elf, also known as Mrs. Schrader, will do it for me.  No such luck on Father’s Day; after all my father is MY father.

       The final, and most difficult part is actually mailing a card.  It is easy to put something in the mailbox; the hard part is remembering to put something in the mailbox.  I’ve got postage-paid mail that I’ve been carrying around with me for the past several months, and I walk by a mailbox several times a day!  I just don’t have the wherewithal to think about mail at the times I need to.

       For this Father’s Day, Mrs. Schrader simplified the process by going to the store and buying the card for me.  All I had to do was sign it and mail it.  It sat on the table for a couple of days before I remembered to sign it.  Where is it now, you may ask?  In my satchel, along with a host of other mail.  If I’m lucky my father may get it by Father’s Day, 1998.

       As a father, there is something special about receiving a card for Father’s Day.  Call it emotion, if you will.  (I call it being blessed by the Almighty.)  If I am any indication, I don’t think the folks at Hallmark or the Post Office have to worry.  It may require most of my limited capacity to think, but the old way is the best way.

       And I think my father should be receiving the card I bought last year any day now.

 

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