341) This box used to live such a wonderful existence. Positioned right across the street from the main entrance to UW, it is on a main migration path for all the pupils who funnel down 17th from the dozens of fraternities, sororities, apartment buildings, and dank basements. There was a time when the box received a constant stream of letters, most of them to parents being asked to send more money. Nowadays, all those damn kids just use their Instagramcrackers and Snapwhatevers, the box lamented. I doubt any of them know which corner of an envelope gets the stamp.

310) So, how’s your 2018 going so far? If you happen to be a mailbox on the western side of University Village, I’d say your 2018 is off to a great start. Just look at how happy this guy is! Sure, it’s rather cold out there, but he’s got a nice bike rack and garbage can to keep him company, and these days that counts for a lot.

308) For the last post of 2017, I thought I’d show you one of the most elusive boxes in Seattle. Oh sure, it looks like it’s right out in the open and easy to spot, but I assure you, that was not the case. All I knew was that there was supposedly a box on the Children’s Hospital campus, but I could not spot it using Google Street View, and my first venture exploring the campus turned up nothing. But when I tried again, I realized that I had overlooked an entire parking around back, and hey, there it was! And wow, that was a really dull story. I’ll have to do better in 2018.

301) This box has been vexing me for months. MONTHS! I drive past it several times a week, but it has always been when traffic was thick and there just wasn’t an easy way to pull over and get the shot. All that changed when I found myself in the area early on this Sunday morning. No traffic, no excuses. I got you box, I finally got you.

285) It’s a box of opportunity! It’s an amazingly rare photo of me wearing a tie! It’s… it’s… both! Today I had a work event that actually required playing dress-up, plus I had an errand to run at University Village. As luck would have it, I happened across this yet-to-be-captured box while there. Funny thing is, now this box thinks this is how I always dress.

279) Once again, I was too late. This time, by mere weeks. Faithful readers know that the single biggest threat to mailboxes is construction. It has been far too common of an occurrence for me to arrive at a mailbox location only to find the box gone and temporary fencing in its place. The inset photo is from Google Street View, showing what the scene looked like for many years (or even decades). But as you can see in the main photo, right now it’s just a scene of disappointment.

276) Sometime boxes that are placed on sloped surfaces are given a bit of an adjustment so they can maintain an upright, proud posture. No such consideration was given to this poor fellow; instead, he’s forced to live each day about 10 degrees off of plumb. Not only that, but the apartment above and to the right plays nothing but Norwegian death metal, and it’s started to get on his nerves.

267) I would love to tell you the complex and tragic life story of this mailbox — it features elephants, several gemstones, and an appearance on Rowan & Martin’s Laugh In — but I’m just too distracted by that recycling bin in the background that’s peeking between the shrubs! That is just too damned funny. The elephant story will have to wait for another time.

264) Did you know that mailboxes hate sandwich board signs? I mean really, really hate them? For the longest time I thought this was because they were afraid people would be so distracted by their bright colors that they’d completely overlook the mailboxes. It turns out, however, that the true reason is far… well… I’m not really sure how to describe it. Mailboxes hate sandwich board signs because they occasionally blow over and the noise startles them.

259) Me: “Hey box, c’mon around the corner so I can get your picture.”

Box: “I’m good where I am.”

Me: “You don’t have to be embarrassed about the graffiti, just come over here.”

Box: “That’s a stupid shirt.”

Me: “We’re done here.”