I’ve shared the shock of the avalanche of emails that swept out of my computer and buried me, this on the return from vacation. In the process of sorting and clearing, I decided I needed more help than the delete button would give. Yesterday and this morning I set myself to the task to rid myself of as many of these infestations as I could.
Not as easy as it sounds. First, what gets the ax? There are a lot of issues I am interested in; I had to give some thought first to the depth of my interest and then did I recall getting similar information on the same topics from other groups? If I did, “off with their emails.”
Then come the defensive maneuvers, the are you really sure you want to do this? After all, you’re told the emus are at stake, the elephants for which I have a large soft spot are being killed off, the majestic big cats of the globe, or the wild horses of the plains, the earth, and maybe even the solar system–all in peril. Who knew one less email could be hinged to the fate of so many things?
On the political side, I get emails it seems from every candidate facing a tough run in every district in every state in the union. But for a few I’m really interested in, like Mark Kelly in Arizona, I’ve decided economics wins over politics. On a limited budget, the most sense is to support the politicians you want running things close to home. The second choice candidates are the ones outside your state who are going to bring the issues most close to your heart with them to Washington. Let the people of Wisconsin deal with the problems of Wisconsin and use their own money to do it.
The next defense is the “oh, we’re so close” emails. A lot of polls seems to have a lot of candidates only one percentage point out of the hunt and often these candidates are running against evil, unpopular, and/or crooked incumbents. Given that and the 1% margin…
Finally, we get to make a deletion choice. First, get out your magnifying glass and maybe a stiff drink. To find unsubscribe you will have to scroll to the bottom of the email. Sometimes all the way to the bottom, sometimes not quite, sometimes to the left, sometimes to the right. Some times the magic word is part of a sentence sometimes, though rarely it stands alone. Having struck gold you stick your electronic needle into it really to toss it into the junk pile on the banks. Not so fast There are a few variations. One is short. It asks you for a reason but doesn’t require one, you hit unsubscribe, and can finally utter with satisfaction, “Ahhhhhhhh.” This over one deletion.
Then there are those that real to you that actually even though you thought you were trying to delete one type of emails that–ooops, sorry, blush, blush–then are actually sending you a half dozen or more, each under a different title whose name is held by one company. Now one is faced with this list of titles and the sweetly offered option of picking only those on the list you wish to be deleted from the pile they send. At the bottom is a box that if checked says, “Hey stupid! Zero! None! Not a one!” This removes them all.
A variation on this theme is the “Are you really sure?” defense. After you’ve done the above comes a large box that first allows you time to have an epiphany and say, “OMG” what am I doing? I don’t want to be responsible for the damage my ignorance will cause if I don’t let these folks educate me.” You can change your mind. Or, you can selectively change your mind and choose some, even though you’ve already decided you wanted none. Finally comes the box that just says, “Unsubscribe.” In unison now, “Ahhhhhh.”
But what about the one I get asking for money, you say. The ones that are written so you think you can’t express your opinion without making a donation. Guess what folks? It’s a slight of finger. If they are asking for your opinion they’ll take it, donation or not. Just hit submit. There are some that only ask for money. If they aren’t part of your pluck your heartstrings group–unsubscribe.
But there’s more. Having unsubscribed you’ll get another email. It will say thank you, sorry to see you go and tell you it will take 4-6 weeks to rub your existence from their rolls. That means, of course, you’ll get more emails and if you haven’t kept a list of those from whom you’ve unloosed yourself you won’t really know in eight or ten weeks, or months if you’re still getting them. You’ll be suspicious so you’ll do this all over again–just to be sure. It is also likely that if you’ve unsubscribed from a local branch, you’ll hear from the state branch, or if you’ve unsubscribed to them as well you’ll hear from the national branch.
And finally my favorite. Having created aching joints, finished your drink, and rested back with some satisfaction up will on occasion pop a notice that tells you, “An error has occurred. We can not process your information. Please try again another day.” What did Snoopy say? “Arg!”
And you thought cable was aggravating? No even close–at least from my perspective.
More thoughts from rainy, sub-tropical south Florida where Bill Gralnick thinks his brain has a mold growth. Less moldy thought can be found at http//:www.atleastfrommyperspective.net
“Read: he says, “It’s good for both of us!”