Tag: blog

01/04/2026: A Letter a Week

When I told myself that I should start coming back here at least once a week, I forgot that I had set myself to a Sunday schedule. So, this will go up less than a week after I’ve set my ‘Resolution’.

I’m not sure if that means the Resolution has already failed, but here we go.

What’s more is that I have a different routine I’m going to start on Sunday morning for this year, but it’s not a Resolution for myself, per se. I’ve been mulling it over for the last three months, in fact.

Putting it simply: the Post Office is dying. Not just in terms of financial stability, but in terms of its institution. We need letters.

Firstly, and the thing that I have to remind people often is that the Postal Service is not built to be a company, but as a part of the US American community. We are servants of the People, but we need postage to sustain ourselves. I agreed with the fact that we are not funded through taxes; that can put our Service at risk of being beholden to politicians when we are supposed to be beholden to the People whom those politicians represent. For that to continue, however, we need the People to sustain us with postage.

Secondly, and a bit more metaphorical, but we, the Postmen, need to be proud of what we do again. I and many many other Postmen will tell you that we are, in fact, proud of what we do, but I’ve been here for 15 years, and I’ve watched that pride be worn down to exhausted disappointment.

I think part of the problem is that we’ve, as a society, have geared ourselves to moving quickly to meet ever-shortening deadlines. While I know that the purpose of communication is to convey information in an efficient manner, it’s not until I force myself to stop, sit down, and either talk to a friend in person or (and here’s the kicker) write/read a letter from someone that communication becomes meaningful. In all the months of the last peak season, when I was running myself ragged along with the rest of the US Postmen in this country, the things I remember most clearly and contentedly are two occasions:

1: When I had my childhood friends nearby. We all had the same idea: “Can we please just enjoy each other’s time and company without a timer running?”

2: When I received simple letters from other friends who could not come into town for the holidays. I felt an obligation to push away that sense that I needed to be doing something else and enjoyed reading the conversation my friends sent to me.

Now, I just need that to happen more often, but on a national scale.

I’ll be the first to admit that that’s going to be a very tall order for a short glass. Not to mention that there’s irony inherent in that, for my goal to gain notoriety, I have to use social media to encourage others to write letters more often. There’s also a concern about the Code of Ethics to which I’m bound, but I and several other postal workers have determined that I can, in fact, ask that the People remember us and give us letters to deliver.

That project will start, as all grassroot projects do, very locally. I’ll be writing to customers in my hometown to ask that they start sending out letters at least once a week. I’ll be asking that they encourage pen-pals again. I’ll be asking that the People realize that we, the US Postmen, belong to them and want our service to be utilized so it does not disappear.

I know. I’ve been told before that there isn’t much hope in such a project. But even a little hope can go a long way, and I’ll be holding myself to the same standard: I’ll be writing a letter once a week to friends I can text right then and there. I can promise that I’ll remember the lettered conversations better than what’s stored in my phone.

Stay safe out there, folks. Write your friends.

-JB Swift

01/01/2026: Auld Lang Syne, lang may yer lum reek.

… it’s been a minute, hasn’t it, folks?

The past year turned out to be one where this old dog had to learn new tricks, find new talents, and rediscover old techniques. I ended up busier than I can rightly recall ever having been.

Not something I would’ve wished as I’ve left my thirties, but here we are.

Not what I expected in my career.

It was my first year as a Union Branch President, and I had a trial-by-fire of learning the rules and methods of the Union Steward and Branch President roles. That means I’ve become a (thankfully very small-time) politician. My local branch had dwindled to basically insignificance, but I’ve found good people willing to help rebuild it, and we are, slowly but steadily, making our way back to relevance.

My first time speaking to a crowd of 200 people. Yes, I was terrified.

This means I was also tapped to go with the Louisiana team to up to D.C. and speak with members of Congress and the Senate. Now, those people have heard my name. Whether they actually know who I am, couldn’t tell me. I’m not sure how to feel about it.

In order to actually be competent in these roles, it does mean that I’ve had to go back to school, of sorts. There have been numerous seminars, classes, and week-long trainings I’ve had to attend; all it’s really done is show me just how much I don’t know, but I have to learn it all well enough to teach it, myself.

I’ve had my work cut out for me, folks.

That’s meant, unfortunately, that I’ve been too tired or busy for my usual escapes and stress-relief. I wasn’t able to keep the Star Wars campaign running on my regular schedule, and I admit that the quality of my plot-writing was beginning to suffer. It was a bitter disappointment to put that story on hiatus; it put me through a round of depression, in fact. But when 2025 was winding down to a close (and I was growing almost frantic with the stress), I decided I needed something.

For that something, I went a bit old-school.

Cracked open one of the many leatherbound journals I’ve been given over the years, found my old pen set, and started writing/drawing. It’s slower than what NaNoWrimo expects from me, and I’m writing it out without clear outlines, so sometimes I’ll put down details or choices I was not expecting. I’ve strangely enjoyed this more than I have when writing on the keyboard.

Also, my cursive is slowly becoming legible. I might even develop actual penmanship!

I haven’t left the Star Wars RPG Universe fully, just yet. I do still work on it, in quiet moments. Don’t fret, players; we’ll get back there some day.

2025 was not without its losses. We had to say goodbye to the last of the original pack, Indy.

We miss you, buddy.

Indiana had developed a cancer on his jaw, and it grew way too quickly for us to stay ahead of it. It came to a talk about chemotherapy for him, but we decided to not take away his quality of life at his age. He was the youngest of the Old Four, and the last to go. We like to say that he left to continue his psychotic rivalry with Jojo the Golden Retriever up in Valhalla. I still, for some reason, trip over empty air where he usually likes to suddenly stop in front of my feet. He was a good dog.

When December finally drew itself to a close, and I finally could put away my phone and not answer the myriad of calls and questions, I had to take a moment and review how I’ve done with this life, over the year. Much as I like being able to help and lead what have become my people in the Union, I have to remind myself to slow down a little, occasionally.

I think I’ll try that for a Resolution. I don’t set much store in that tradition, but it’d probably be good for me to try it. Especially after my last doctor visit, on New Year’s Eve, where my physician told me to remember my heart. I’m about to be 40, after all. Now I’ve got to take care of myself as well as everyone else around me.

This look like a good start.
Slightly older, slightly grayer, same Black Dog shirt.

I’m going to try coming back here, at least on Sunday mornings before I go tramping off around the property looking for chores. That might make for longer posts, if I can hide myself well enough whittle away for an hour (and I’m not distracted by actually whittling a new smoking pipe), but I’ve missed this little corner of mine the past few months.

No matter what, however, I’ll keep watching my children grow into the wonderful people they’re becoming, praying I’ve taught them rightly, and I’ll keep writing, every chance I get.

Cheers, good people. Happy 2026. May it be a full year, with the good and bad, and hopefully you’ll see me here again. I’ll want to know all about how your year went.

Stay safe out there, folks.

-JB Swift

PS~ Han discovered the Lord of The Rings universe, and then she learned that my Catholic and Irish names can go into my “government name” and said I should make a signature symbol like Tolkien. It needs work, but she thought it looked cool as a draft.