A FUNNY thing happened to me, and mine, this week. Not funny, ha ha. More funny peculiar. Well, not funny at all if we are going to be truthful. Sad is more accurate.

Sad that the world I once knew, and the country I was proud to declare was my home, has now gone so far into the toilet that absolutely nothing will drag it back over the rim.

Now before you dismiss this rant as the bile of a firmly-established curmudgeon, hear me out.

On Monday my missus answered our door bell to be met by a representative of the Royal Mail. Apologetic, he thrust a clutch of letters and a parcel at her and explained that the person meant to deliver them had slung a bag full of mail into a field, where it had lain for days.

The bag and its contents were soaked so postal staff spent the weekend drying them out before delivering them to the intended recipients. Much of the stuff I took delivery of was postmarked October 26, a total of 13 or so days before I received it.

I know that, seen against a backdrop of the horrors in Iraq, rail disasters, the deaths of sporting icons like Emlyn Hughes and wonderful Lancashire characters like TV personality Fred Dibnah, the loss of a bag of post is neither here nor there.

But there is something else to consider here: the irrefutable breakdown of what was once perhaps the most dependable of all our public services.

This may surprise, shock even, some of this column's younger readers, if there still are any that is, but I can remember when domestic mail was delivered EARLY MORNING.

Yes, folks, before many of us rose from our beds. In those far off days, "posties", pressed trousers and wearing the regulation peaked cap, had got up around 4.30a.m. to reach the depot to start their rounds.

They were public servants in the true meaning of the job description. They took pride in what they did and a serious number spent most, if not all, their working life delivering mail.

That was then; this is now. We get one delivery per day, around noon. The Royal Mail, like so many monolithic institutions, has wheeled in "suits" with business expertise to put their business on to a sound financial footing.

This means increased charges and staff cuts, with the people at the sharp end now so disillusioned and angry that they do what our postperson did: chuck a bag and its contents into a field.

In the good old days, promotion came through the ranks. Many middle and senior managers, not just in the postal service but across the entire spectrum of business and industry, knew what was going on at grass roots level and so made allowances for the stresses and pressures which these days require the services of a personnel manager or in-house counsellor.

I don't know what caused our postie to flip. The Royal Mail is conducting its own inquiry, but the simple truth is the system is shot to pieces. That's why so many businesses use private couriers to make important deliveries.

Senior Royal Mail management can protest all they want. The facts speak for themselves. Like so many other so-called "service industries" in the UK, it has become a joke. A sick one at that.