end of year tipping strategies

I know that at the end of the year, you're supposed to tip service people generously. I try to keep it simple. So I never leave anything -- no booze, no cookies, no money -- for the post man, though I do give him a big smile on the rare occasion when I see him drive up to the mail box. Similarly, I don't tip counter people for getting me a cup of coffee, and I don't leave tips on top of the garbage can.

I don't live in Manhattan, so I don't have to tip the building super or anyone else who works in my building, though Robert does come in for special consideration.

I do try to be generous with the dreaded vacuum cleaner lady (who is very nice, actually, though the kitties would tell you otherwise) and the woman who cuts my hair (whom I see more frequently than I see most of my friends).

And the newspaper man. In past years, I have given in and started to tip the man who delivers the newspaper. Some time last week, our newspaper bag included a small envelope on which was printed an exceedingly long message. It talked about what a privilege it is to have me as a customer, then moved on to instructions for canceling service when I'm away, and finally, in a sudden bout of self-awareness, realized that it was an envelope, and should I want to let the delivery man know how much I appreciate his service, I could tuck a little offering inside (no cash, please) and send the envelope to the address conveniently printed on the other side.

And yes, we do get the paper every morning at the crack of 7 (even though we're guaranteed to have the paper by 6). And no matter where I ask for it to be placed, it ends up in the middle of the driveway, which even I am beginning to think is fine, except on those mornings when it's raining and the paper ends up in a puddle and is soaked through with water.

While I was considering this tip for service (notice that I carefully didn't say "exceptional"), Sunday morning rolled around. Somehow, when the paper arrived that morning, the driver managed not to drop it on the driveway, but to slide it. It was a windy day, and close to Christmas. The resulting combination was not happy. Before I picked up the bag, I had to go around the yard and pick up all the inserts that were happily blowing around. Then I picked up the bag, and indoors, unpacked it. One of the few things that had managed to stay in the bag was a little envelope containing one of the most insipid Christmas cards ever (the kind that even K-Mart would be embarrassed to sell). On the envelope was the same address of the man seeking tips a few days earlier.

So how much does one tip in this situation?