Sometimes a person has to pick their battles and sometimes has to know when to just walk away. Years ago on a cold snowy night when I lived in a small town south of here near Burlington I heard a knock at the door. I answered the door and there was a short dumpy looking guy telling me he just ran over my mail box. I lived on an outside corner in a residential development and when he came around the corner too fast he went off the road taking my mail box out. I could tell he had been drinking and had to evaluate whether to call the cops. I mentioned that I probably should report it but he said he would take care of the box and relace it with a new one. I recognised him from the main drag area outside the development so I agreed. A couple of days went by and I wasn't getting the mail so I figured I better just replace the box and did so. Digging out the post in the frost wasn't pleasant but once I started I had it all like new in a couple of hours. I debated whether to contact the guy and send him the bill for replacement materials and then figured what the heck it was done and hopefully I wouldn't have to deal with him again. A few months later I saw in the paper where this dirt bag was arrested for murder at a state fishing access area near the house. I guess he and another guy had been drinking and there was a disagreement so the guy pulled a knife and killed his drinking buddy. The whole thing just came back to me on how close I was to making a big deal about the mailbox. Something in the back of my head said just let it go. That is probably why they call me Mr. Lucky.