In the Era of Digital Living our lives grow ever more transparent – whether we like it to or not.
The Internet gurus now know what our interests are, our credit rating, what websites we visit, the tastes we have.
They can foresee our medical needs based on age, race and other data that, despite our best efforts, are floating about.
In other words, somebody’s reading the tea leavess and making hay.
And they’re probably making a lot more than the corner psychic even though they’re ostensibly in the same business.
But it got me thinking.
I wonder how they see me based on the emails I receive from them.
They’re asking me to join this, take advantage of that. The offers are amazing, new, free (and often only available this one-time). They are risk-free and I won’t be charged a thing.
So, who are these people and the companies that so fervently have my interests (and wallet) at heart? A look in my in-box recently revealed who and what they are. Let me share a few.
One is a representative from a small African or Eastern European nation. Sometimes they’re from the West Indies.
They wish to deposit $1.5 million in my bank account on behalf of their consulate.
The money is to be used at my discretion and is being offered only to me because I am a trustworthy person. It is also tax free. (First, I didn’t know my reputation was THAT good. Second, it might take a turn for the worse if I don’t report such a windfall to the IRS, don’t you think?)
Many write to offer me a new non-FDA approved supplement. It will reduce my risk of obesity, diabetes, heart disease, cancer, macular degeneration, muscle and joint pain, irregularity AND increase my sexual desire.
(I wonder. Can I choose which ailments this pill will help me with and STILL reap the benefits of increased sexual desire? Can they provide a list of lovely, eligible women who might be available for the latter as my health and vitality improve? And not to be picky, but if she plays golf, so much the better. Otherwise, what’s the point of buying their pill?)
Banks and lending institutions keep reminding me about reverse mortgages and re-financing.
That’s great, but I don’t own a home anymore (Even the corner psychic knows that. She stopped sending her flyers to my old address.)
Technology companies are constantly telling me my computer is “at risk.” They all claim they alone can combat the SPAM that arrives in my in-box daily.
So many choices. So little time. I delete them and pray my antivirus, malware and whatever else is in the computer are doing their job. The programs just let these stray messages come in because they are so entertaining and thought-provoking!
Others who write are acutely aware that I’m an aging baby boomer (there are only 50 million of us). I’m far from retired, but they want me to be prepared for my day of reckoning.
How do I do that? Simple. Buy funeral insurance – a $5,000, $7,500 or $10,000 policy will do just fine.
Why? Because they know we’re going to die. Not a hard roll of the dice (I think they spoke to that psychic to get her prediction on when I will go).
But I may ponder this one right up until the day I die – unless they give me a deadline based on what they know.
So, there we have it. Life as defined by my in-box. Beyond requests to “friend” or “like” the local bistro, coffee shop and doggie styling salon, I do occasional surveys.
That way I know who and what I’m supposed to care about. Meanwhile, the deals just keep coming. So, pardon me while I check my emails for yet another important message.
Ben Singer is a communications consultant, freelance writer and resident of Los Alamitos.
