Reading, recently, of the Post Office’s plan to cut deliveries to five days a week, I was reminded of what they did to us in the old neighborhood before we bought the rancho out here in the hills. They decided one day that we had the wrong address and so they changed it. But without telling us or anyone else. So no one knew to use the new address and, while we wondered at the lack of mail, we fell behind in our bills, including the utility bills.
The city utilities subsequently refused to use the new address, and a flurry of fruitless visits to the Post Office ensued. The P.O. finally relented, and changed back to the old address, making us wonder why they had been so absurd as to change it in the first place. We never found out. We suspected it had something to do with all the catalogs we received unrequested, which the delivery person (a woman) was tired of hauling.
Yet, all the while, UPS and FedEx cheerfully delivered our packages to us at the old address, never knowing what the Post Office had done and was refusing to undo. That’s private enterprise vs. government. I’m glad I’m too old to have to worry overmuch about the Dem’s coming national health care. If I should live long enough for it to fully ensnare me, with its inevitable absurd rationing and possibly fatal delays, I’ll start using the VA. At least I’ll enjoy the camaraderie of other veterans who are well-schooled in government absurdities.
THE TEXAS SCRIBBLER 
Why was your address changed? Because we are the civil service: we can do such things. Why do we do such things? Because we can. No other explanation is necessary.
I knew it was something like that. Silly me. Nice to have you back, Akaky. How’s tricks in the Vampire State? Lots of snow, yes? It was in the seventies here today.
You will desist, sir, from bringing up the unfortunate lack of heat in this part of this our Great Republic, as well as the large amounts of precipitation that has yet to go away, lest we of the civil service, in a purely official and not at all personally vindictive manner, you understand, declare you dead and that you died inestate, enabling us to loot you six ways from Sunday and to leave those nearest and dearest to you destitute in the middle of the street wondering what happened.
Well, fear not, the icebox will thaw. Come summer you can mock us for sweltering in 100-degree heat day after day.