The Mailbox Paradox
January, 2023
The answer to the question of why we travel in our RV – to explore our amazing country – is a familiar response. But if we are asked why we leave the comfort of our home for extended periods, the reply is decidedly different.
The answer to this question starts with our mailbox. Standing at the street, right next to our driveway, it’s a big brick structure holding a cheap, metal mailbox. Like all things on a 20+ year old house, it’s been showing its age – mainly the cheap metal part. The door to the mailbox – the part that swings open and down began rusting and coming loose a few years ago. At that point, the sensible homeowner would have gotten out in front of the problem and replaced it.
Bob on the other hand, decided the best course of action would be to exercise what is called deferred maintenance. Let the door hang there until it is about to fall off. Then when maintenance is absolutely necessary, apply the standard fix: duct tape the hinges so the door can still swing open without falling off.
But once the duct tape started to fail, Julia decided to apply fix-it-now maintenance. So, to work we went. And it only took us four days. Here is the day-by-day synopsis:
Day One: Bob watched a bunch of You Tube videos to convince himself this will be as easy as pulling an old insole out of a shoe and replacing it with a new one. Then we went to Lowe’s and purchased the only mailbox that would fit the opening – a near-replica of the original cheap box.
Day Two: Initiated removal. After carefully separating the old box from the mortar at the front, we firmly grasped the mailbox and pulled. And pulled. And then pulled some more. When it didn’t budge, we brought out pry bars and cutting tools. We increased the size and power of each new tool as every previous tool failed in its job to dislodge the metal box from the brick encloser. The box was held in its opening with bricks anchoring it into place in ways we could only appreciate once we had completely removed it. The job took a reciprocating saw, an oscillating tool, and a grinder to pulverize the box into small enough pieces so it could be removed.
Day Three: Prep the opening for the new box. Heavy grinding was required on the front mortar. Completely rebuilding the brick interior was also necessary as these bricks were simply piled on top and around the old box in no apparent order. This is where Julia’s Tetris skills shined strong. We also had to reinforce the interior with a bit of lumber due to so much brick disruption. Tomorrow we will slide in the new metal mailbox and call it a job well done.
Day Four: Slide in the new box. Well, not so fast. It didn’t fit. The new box didn’t fit for the same reason the old box wouldn’t slide out. These metal mailboxes are put together in part by crimping different pieces of sheet metal together at the rear of the box. This crimping creates a little flange that sticks up around the circumference of the box by about ¼ inch. However, this added height was just enough to prevent the new box from fitting in the brick structure and the old box from sliding out. So, what to do?
It was at this moment that Bob was tempted to leave the tools where they lay and hop in the van and vamoose. He was already missing the old rusting box with a door barely hanging on with duct tape. Fixing it would have been the furthest thing from his mind while enjoying a campground far, far away. He’s sure the mail carrier would have gotten out of his truck and put the door back on to the box when it fell off in his hands as he opened it. He’s such a nice guy. Besides, we use a post office box for most of our mail.
Instead, we persevered by cutting off the flange. This allowed the box to slide in, but it did have one unfortunate downside – the mailbox no longer held together as all the individual sheet metal pieces came apart. No crimpy, no holdy. So, we found ourselves applying the same fix to the new flangeless box that we originally applied to the old box – duct tape. We taped all the joints together on the backside of the box and voila! We had a mailbox that fit as we slid it into place – barely. Just like sliding a slightly used insole into an old shoe. Happily, the duct tape is extra strength tape and isn’t exposed to the weather, the joints it is holding together aren’t under any stress or movement and the brick interior is moisture free.
Life was now good. The box was in, and we had finally finis…uh, wait, not quite yet. The door didn’t close well – or stay closed. The cheap mechanism used to keep it closed bent easily. Ugh! After much consternation (Bob) and thought (Julia), we came up with an ideal solution: glue in place a couple of rare earth magnets on the door. When the door is pushed closed, these magnets are against the body of the box, creating a nice firm grip. And the door was still easy to open. Ok, now life is good.
But what does this have to do with why we leave home? Simple. The mailbox is somehow mysteriously connected to the clothes dryer vent. We have since spent three days unclogging and repairing the vent pipe that goes from our dryer to the outside. We won’t bore you with the daily efforts taken to clean out nearly 25 feet of lint, with part of the work taking place under the house, in a crawl space that appears to be home to spiders, rodents and snakes. (To be fair, we have never seen a snake down there, just a snakeskin.) Anyway, look at this short, yet satisfying video as we approached the finish line.
The point is, one home repair seems to inexplicably lead to another, which then leads to another. In between the mailbox and the dryer vent, other maintenance needs appeared out of “nowhere”. For instance, you’re telling us half the upstairs’ doors don’t close properly due to the house settling? Come on!
As an alternative to living in this self-perpetuating restoration zone, consider the pleasure of camping out in the mountains or next to the ocean free of home repair worries, away from a house showing its age. (If you too had such an escape vehicle, wouldn’t you use it?)
But won’t we face new and old repair jobs once we return home, especially since we are sometimes gone for long stretches? Please don’t remind us. Let’s just say these fix-it jobs make us excited about hitting the road – any road. And we will. Just as soon as we fix the leaky toilet in the van.
Cheers,
Bob and Julia
Header Photo: Bryce Canyon National Park. No mailbox in sight.
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