Ten Days to San Francisco!!

From April 3, 1860 to October 24, 1861 the Post Office ran a service for quick delivery of mail between Missouri and California. Called the Pony Express, it employed small young men to ride quick ponies between stations so that the mail moved nonstop. Each rider would pass on the bag of mail to the next rider who was ready to go. The Pony Express was heavily subsidized and the cost of sending mail did not cover the actual cost. The service went bankrupt just as the Civil War was heating up.

I think of this in terms of the state the world is in right now. In the developed world most have become accustomed to instant high speed Internet service wherever they are, on their phones. We don’t have to wait. The disparity, of course, is economic in nature. In many rural parts of the world, in Africa, rural India, Central America, and other similar locations, people living in poverty have to walk miles to get clean water. Medical care is a luxury.

In the developed world we have lost patience to a degree that I question whether it can be recovered. I recall as a kid that I’d sometimes put an order for something or other in the mail, with a coupon clipped from the back of a cereal box. My parents would see that it got into the mail. The next day I’d ask if the item had come. My parents would tell me that I needed to be patient, that the order hadn’t reached the company yet and they wouldn’t know that I had wanted it. With time I grew to accept patience with such things as a normal part of life.

But now, we don’t need to be patient. Pre-plague, Amazon ramped up same day delivery for a price. Prime delivery was reduced from two days to one on many items, using their own in-house delivery system. Why wait if you don’t have to?

Then came the plague.

Prime deliver is now guaranteed in two weeks. Holy crap! Two weeks? I can’t wait that long. So I try eBay instead and I can often get it within a week. Whew. Dodged that bullet, ayuh.

There are some glimmers of hope. People at home with their children are learning how to work on projects with their children, which still strikes me as odd because growing up, I was accustomed to that. It was the norm. And, some have found that projects that don’t involve a phone or a computer can actually be fun. Quaint.

René Rapin (1621–1687) was a French Jesuit and a prolific poet. He wrote a book-length poem “On Gardens” which was translated into English in the later 17th century. In Book II “Of Trees” Rapin writes how it takes time for trees to mature:

Their Rise and Form proceed my Muse to sing,
Tho’ lofty Oaks sometimes from Suckers spring
With tow’ring Heads, and when transplanted spread,
And with their Branches cast a noble Shade
Yet of all Trees they rear the lofty’t Brow’
Which first from Seeds and swelling Acorns grow
I grant, before they to Perfection come,
They will in tardy Growth an Age consume.
Yet then they cast a more majestic Shade,
And Loss of Time with Goodness is repaid….

In other words, it takes time for a beautiful and majestic tree to mature. It can’t be rushed. The beauty of a mature tree only comes about by slow, steady growth.

But that Amazon Prime package had damned well come tomorrow, right?