No Saturday mail? Don't stamp out my joy

THE BRONZE DOOR to my mailbox is closed, unfortunately, just as I left it Friday night.

I am waiting for the mail early Saturday afternoon. I peer out the window at the mailbox, still closed. No fliers for the new pizza shop or alumni magazines asking for money sticking out of the top, a sure sign the mail has arrived.

I am a person who gets preternaturally excited about the mail. I still believe, foolishly and childlike, that good things can be found in the mailbox. Perhaps a rebate check I didn't know I had coming. Or some artifact of my youth discovered at one of my parents' houses or photos of friends' babies soon to be hung on the refrigerator. Despite water bills and "Dear Citizen" letters from politicians and Talbots catalogs that speak to the contrary, I look forward to the deliveries because I look forward to surprises.

Also, it's an undisputed fact that Saturday is the most exciting day for mail because Saturday is the only day I am home when the mail comes. Other days, it has arrived long before I leave work. On Saturdays, I can instantly learn what's been delivered.

Please, don't mistake me for desperate. I wait until the postal worker is a few doors down before rushing out to my box to see what has been left in my stocking.

Or at least that's been the routine. Now, the postmaster general (great title) and the president have suggested ending Saturday mail to help solve some of the post office's enormous financial problems.

Which would only mean more of the status quo. Another day without mail would be another day when no one made a conscientious effort to reach me, no one wanted to thank me for anything or ask me to attend anything. It would be another day when nothing is delivered, another day of just tracking an item online and learning that it has arrived in Hampton Roads but is sitting in a warehouse here doing nothing. No unexpected joy like the year my wife's Christmas present arrived at 5 p.m. on Christmas Eve, a Saturday. I nearly kissed the mailman, yelling after him like a reformed Ebenezer Scrooge: And a Merry Christmas to you, good sir!

In a poll last year, 68 percent of Americans said they could go without mail on Saturday, and they're probably right. Everybody's dealing with less - how about a little less mail? How about a little less clutter?

Any news worth sharing nowadays is likely to arrive electronically.

The mailbox? Still shut.

No mail on Saturday would be one less day of sorting, one less bill to be paid, one less odd form of documentation to be appropriately filed away.

On most days, when I flip through the detritus of the mail on the buffet next to the door, there's hope, but, in reality, not much I am curious about. It's too often credit card applications and offers for insurance I will not buy and catalogs for things I do not want.

No mail on Saturday would only increase my already unnatural hatred for Monday. It's bad enough that it's the start of the workweek, but if Saturday's mail were added to the pile, there would be that much more to be disappointed in. It would be like coming home to a vacation's worth of mail every week with little good to show for it.

A few hours later, out of nervous habit, I eye the mailbox again, and it's still closed. By now, it's much too late in the afternoon for anything to be delivered.

Then I find the unopened anniversary card, the one that always arrives a few days early from my mom, who goes to the post office early so it makes it in time. I had saved it just in case nothing came Saturday.

Because the only thing worse than getting mail on Saturday is not getting any mail at all.

Mike Gruss, (757) 446-2277, mike.gruss@pilotonline.com, PilotOnline.com/gruss