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Take a little trip to the e-trash can
May 27, 2014 - Paul Giannamore
As of now, there are move than 500 pieces of trash e-mail in my can, all sent since May 5. That’s an average of 21 a day, not counting ones I actually opened and read, and it’s skewed because it includes weekends.
I don’t know if it’s a common problem for everyone, but it’s a real issue to me, enough that I’m thinking of making a tour of my e-trash can a monthly blog post.
In addition to the spate of political press releases telling us about so-and-so’s position on the imported banana chip crisis and its relation to jobs in our area, there are countless attempts to sell me stuff, get me to take a position on stuff, or just please, please, please give my attention to stuff.
Got to tell you, there’s a hierarchy here. E-mails signed by The Boss (At Work), The Boss of The Boss (at Work) and anyone with the surname of the owners of this publication gets priority. That’s followed by The Boss (At Home), who is only just slightly below the above “from” lines simply because she isn’t involved with signing the paychecks but in the spending thereof.
Then, there are the e-mails that are from The Home Office in Aurora, Colo. My brother-in-law doesn’t Facebook his fun stuff and relies on the decade-old method of disseminating jokes, useful information or misinformation, which, to his credit, he asks me to debunk before disseminating further. (I emphasize the rule: There are plenty of actual reasons based in hard reality to dislike your political opponents. Use those and stay away from the ones that require tinfoil hats to filter the signal.)
There are e-mails from PennDOT that contain info vital to motorists about the Parkway West and Route 22, and we’ve got lots of folks who need that information for work and recreation transportation.
There is the occasional e-mail pertaining to the business section that I need to handle or forward.
Beyond that, such gems as what follows won’t get very far:
— “Hi, I’m Kate.” Where were you when I skipped my high school senior prom? Sorry, I’m married. For 28 years now.
— “Last night. Wow.” I have to tell you, I’m of the age where I’d rather have the vintage Camaro instead of the little blue pill in the TV commercials, so I doubt this one is really about what it seems to be.
— “Interview Op:” (First off, that’s PR speak for “We’ve got somebody who needs free attention” and only very occasionally proves worthy of opening) “(Mr. X) Is on a mission to save 6 million who die from smoking.” Been there fought that. Unless you’re putting a catalytic converter on the once-a-month cigar I smoke in the back yard, far from my family, I’m not interested.
— “Ernest Benz by John Varvatos Limited Editions.” What do I look like? The Fashion Police? Only Benz I’m interested in has a three-pointed star on the grill. Preferably followed by the letters "AMG" on the trunk lid. And, I only know of John Varvatos because of the very nice looking Chrysler 300 edition last year.
— “We’ll pay for dinner.” Sure, no ethical issues would arise from clicking on this one. None at all.
— “Proof they’re scared.” Now while this wasn’t sent from someone with a political name or office, I guarantee you it’s the Republicans or Democrats telling us why the Democrats or Republicans are scared about some deeply esoteric point that only eggheads who have the time on their hands to parse every verb in every press release ever written will care about. And the more of these I get, the more scared for the future of the nation and society I get.
— “Every Ohio child deserves this.” What? Unless you’ve come up with a way to put me back to the day before the National Guard opened fire at Kent State, thus restoring me to the state I was growing up in, forget it. Not opening the thing.
— “Motor.” Ooookaaaay. I could reply “Gear.” “Transmission.” “Need to experiment with the weight jacker to get around Turn 1 better.”
— “Turn wasted meeting time into ROI.” It’s no secret to anyone who’s ever worked with me since the early 1990s that I detest meetings. You want a return on your investment? Go meet, come out and tell me what you want me to do. I’ve got ROI to create.
— “Properly Wimbledon.” Nothing more to say to that.
— “7 Tips Stirred in Pasta Fagioli to deal with difficult people.” Huh? Elbow macs, a light sauce with a little meat and red beans help me to deal with difficult people? I really should read that one. Or call The Boss (at Home) because suddenly I know what I’m making for dinner tonight.
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