THE POST

The Post

Van Gogh's postman seems efficient and also looks like he'd gladly to talk with you.

Chekhov's postman on the other hand is bitter. Maybe he's been through too many mail runs during the winter months -- like a soldier who has witnessed so much horror -- the postman is taciturn -- doesn't want to reflect on what he's doing -- because if he did -- he might not be able to keep doing it.

The job as described by Chekhov seems quite a difficult one and dangerous -- and so the postman can only hang on to what he feels comfortable with -- which are the rules -- and the rules are being challenged by the student.

The student is young and is up for some adventure -- the postman has had his share of adventures and just wants to get through the day.

The student passes by homes and wonders who lives inside -- fantasizes about the pretty young woman dreaming soundly. The postman has stopped wondering -- stopped caring -- stopped living.

How many people do we all know who have been doing the same job for years? After a while it takes a toll -- on their health -- their outlook -- their life.

If we could all stay students -- stay young -- and stay open to adventures -- life would be a more pleasant experience -- but we can't. And I have the feeling the postman would rather I just shut up.

So I will.