Am I done ranting this week? No; I'm not. Whenever I hear someone ask why we have the Postal Service at all, when all transactions can be carried out via the Internet, using e-mail for correspondence, UPS or FedEx for shipping and receiving parcels, and electronic transfers of various kinds for bill-paying and the like, I know that person has never lived in a truly rural location and also that he or she is not a reader of magazines. We had to change from our dearly beloved metropolitan (meaning complete in all aspects, including ads with illustrations, much more national news, a plethora of regional and style items not to be found elsewhere in any form and fuller sports coverage) edition of the New York Times because we were missing so many days of it. The national edition, although dropped at the doorstep, is just not the same, but the subscription prices kept converging and delivery by mail was too sporadic, for whatever reasons. Now, since events of September, delivery of everything has become spotty. Since we sink so much of our discretionary spending into this form of indulgence, we're really suffering! Today I corresponded with the New York Review of Books; tomorrow I'll try to find time for the Manchester Guardian; then I'm not sure which one I'll tackle. I want those missing issues!