Junk Mail

How times have changed. It seems only a few years ago that I complained about all the junk mail in my mailbox each day. Along with the ever-present bills and a dwindling number of personal letters would be a volume of unwanted paper. There were ads for vinyl siding, coupons for fast-food restaurants, reminders that I really needed more life insurance, and of course, the ubiquitous Publisher's Clearing House Sweepstakes entry letter ("You may have already won a million dollars!!!"). I still get some of these amazing offers today, but the volume is way down.

The electronic age changed all this. Now those who seek to separate my dollars from my pocket slip right into my home via my computer.

I use an email service that screens all the incoming emails into two categories: "inbox" and "junk." Seems like a good plan at first glance. But the problem is that it segregates all the incoming mail based on whether I've ever designated the sender as "safe" in the past. This means that I may receive something I really want (like a first-time email from a friend) in the junk box. This system necessarily requires that I scan through the junk list, reading the addresses and the topic title on each email before deciding whether to add the sender to my safe list.

I get about fifty emails in this category every day. The privacy of the computer age allows a lot of these to be quite personal. There are offers to increase the size of a certain member of my anatomy. Offers to increase my vitality and enhance my love life. Offers to improve various other areas in my life assumed deficient by the sender. Sometimes there is even an "urgent request" from a nice widow in Nigeria, who needs my help in accessing a fortune left by her late husband. I'm always tempted by this one--she seems so sincere, and she does promise to give a substantial portion of her inheritance to orphans.

I believe my late grandfather would have loved all this. I'm told he would often respond to the little ads that appeared in comic books back in the day. Ads for things like x-ray glasses and pens that wrote in disappearing ink. He once sent a dollar to a man in response to an ad that promised "I'll teach you how I made a million dollars the easy way." A few weeks later he received the secret by return mail: "I made a million dollars by getting fools like you to send me a dollar." I think the laugh he got from that one was worth the buck.

I am less enthusiastic about the daily screening of my junk mail.

The other day I received one that piqued my interest. The subject line was "Russian queens are waiting." The text was simple: "I can do for you is - what can not no girl." To learn more, I needed to click on a hyper link to a web site.

My finger momentarily quivered. But I'm no fool. I'm not willing to open some Pandora's box that could lead to God knows where. Besides, the Red Head and I are approaching twenty-nine years of married life this summer. Goofing that up now would be like going to foreclosure by failing to send in your final mortgage payment because you didn't like the picture on the postage stamp.

Still, I'm intrigued. What could the Russian queen do for me "what can not no girl?"

There might be a few things I'd be interested in. Maybe she could always be glad to see me--every meeting treated as a joyous occasion. Maybe she'd never complain at meal time, but always dine enthusiastically, whatever the fare. Maybe she'd enjoy long walks together. And most importantly, maybe she would overlook the fact that I can be a real jerk--always forgiving me and gazing at me as if I hung the moon and stars. Then, and only then, might I be interested.

But then again, maybe not. After all, I already have a dog.