It was a good day for mailing. One of those gorgeous spring days that make it unthinkable to be anywhere but outside. While we checked the issues at Locus, we listened to some records – Godley and Creme, Timbukthree, etc – and afterwards I loaded my car with Trevin and Shelly and took in the airmail. It was so beautiful outside that physical labor was no hardship.  This time there were no hassles at the post office – in fact, they had someone to help us unload the cars.

Fritz called today, and asked me to read an excerpt from his book to him over the phone. He then said he would like either me or Shelly to read to him, since he’s having trouble reading his manuscript. I told him we would be delighted, and Shelly asked me to tell him she would be glad to do it, unaware that I already had. I guess he’ll get in touch when he needs someone to read for him.

Mailing always followed collating. We would drive to the Main West Oakland Post Office, the back of Charlie’s car loaded with canvas bags of labeled magazines. The main post office is a massive complex of square, blocky buildings in the concrete desert of auto shops, junkyards, overpasses and empty lots that is West Oakland. I usually saw it from a BART window overhead as I rode the line to and from the East Bay to San Francisco. On mailing days, we would pull the car over to the loading area and one of us would go in to hand over a postal money order. After that, it was a matter of tossing the heavy bags, bulky with bound squares of magazines, into a huge bin filled with other, similarly loaded bags. We were young and strong, and I remember liking the physical effort, the sense of satisfaction once it was all done and we could drive the empty car back to Charlie’s house in the Oakland Hills.