Let me back up a bit and explain how our mail works.
Full time RVers, like Margaret and I, get to pick where we call "home". Pretty cool, huh? After a lot of research, back in 2003, we chose South Dakota. Thousands of other RVers call South Dakota home, as well, for a lot of reasons, but mostly because there is no state income tax, no vehicle inspections, and vehicle insurance rates that rank among the lowest in the nation.
Where there are incentives like that, there are numerous businesses that sprout up to cater to people like us. One such place, in the tiny town of Emery, SD, is My Home Address, Inc. When you send something to us by USPS, that's where it goes. It gives us a street address in the community that allows us to get driver's licenses, vehicle registration, voter registration and more. For all intents and purposes, were South Dakotans! Unlike many of the people who use this service, we actually stop in from time to time and pick up our mail in person. That lets us go to the bargain hot lunch at the Senior Center, and meet and chat with our "neighbors".
Usually once a week we call Ron at My Home Address and tell him where we'd like that week's mail sent. And that's where we came in...
Last weeks mail delivery came in two packages.. one Priority Mail envelope, containing all the bills, and check
The folks at My Home Address had to obliterate the original address and return address before they put their address label on it, so the original return address is mostly unreadable. I can make out the last three letters on the first line: "son", (maybe "sson"), and the last digit of the zip is "5" (maybe "45", maybe not).
So there it is... somebody knows about my checkered military past, and sent an appropriate gift. If someone doesn't fess up here, it will forever remain a mystery. But thanks... whoever you are. I wore it at the MGA trial this past weekend.