No wonder Royal Mail is struggling

[TrueBlueTerrier]

No wonder Royal Mail is struggling. Don't even think about emailing me a Christmas card

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree ... ost-office

Poor Royal Mail. It now has an estimated £7bn pensions hole. Of course, everything has a yawning pension hole nowadays - it's £915bn for the public sector. Why rejoice at the birth of a grandchild? It will only spend its life slaving away and pouring the bulk of its wage into its grandparents' pensions. If only our government could help the darling public post offices, but it can't, because it's blown everything on the private banks. Royal Mail must struggle on alone, and it's having a tough time.

It isn't what it used to be. I have kept my mother's old pension books as a memento. Remember those? You took them to the post office, queued up, met other real live people, and got your money. Then it changed to cards and droves of pensioners tottered around penniless trying to remember their pin numbers.

Then along came email. Hardly anything comes by post any more except bank statements, bills and bulb catalogues that you never asked for. It's called "e-substitution". And really cheeky people even send electronic Christmas cards. Please don't send me any. What is the point of them?

No one knows you've got them, you can't put them on display and visitors will think you have no friends. All right, you can print them off, if your printer works, but if we stop using the post more postmen will be sacked. And the ones who aren't have to race round at 4.1 miles an hour, chased by inspectors. Who can blame them for striking?

Luckily it's not all gloom. There may be fewer letters, but online shopping means more parcels - "e-fulfilment" (or it would be if there wasn't private competition). And some post is vital. It was for Fielding last Friday, although rather disappointing. His wife received several lovely cards and invitations, but all he got was one to test himself for bowel cancer. Everyone nagged him to get on with it, but he refused. He's going to wait until after Christmas. Not just because he doesn't fancy doing it, but because a) this is a man brought up in a house where, psychologically, there was no lavatory, and b) if he does have bowel cancer, then he doesn't want to know until after Christmas, and c) why go through that ghastly procedure, then send his sample off into the mad pile-up of the Christmas post and the planned strike? It's bound to get lost or arrive too late. Poor Fielding would have to go through the whole wretched business again.

But here is some news to cheer him up. Rosemary has carried out a swift survey and found that he is not alone with his disappointing post. Men's post is generally fairly dismal: just sample requests, overdraft warnings, utility bills and the like. Women send and receive more thrilling invitations, letters and cards. Men, in general cannot be fagged. Even if they do receive a charming card, they tend not to display it. They open it, lay it down flat and forget its existence.

But this is one letter Fielding must not forget. Nor can he reply by email. The postal service is saving our lives. Now we need to save the postal service.