JUNK AND SPAM

Junk and Spam sounds like the name of a law firm that advertises on television, but they are two features on my amazing MacBook Pro. Computers are truly astonishing---especially when they work. Most of the time, my computer can discern the difference between legitimate e-mails and the unwanted kind. I don’t know how it does that, but when these unsolicited e-mails arrive, they are automatically tossed into “Junk and Spam” folders, and then, with a flick of the finger, I can delete them.

Everyday, my folders are filled with at least thirty or more pieces of junk mail. Usually, I quickly scan them to be sure that legitimate communications haven’t landed into one of those slots, and then I get rid of them.

However, as a less than scientific experiment, in the past few weeks, I decided to jot down some of the subject matter that ended up in my folders. Had I opened them up, I could have “learned more about cremation” after “taking a walk in my bathtub,” or “eaten some of the foods that will kill my brain.”

Several of these junk inquiries seemed inordinately interested in my brain. One advertized a “brain revolution.” I would need this to invest in “penny stocks” or “crush my fat.” Ouch! One enticing subject only said, “enthralling.”  Maybe that involved how I’d feel if I needed a “nail fungus remedy,” or wanted to “meet a cougar.” I’ve seen cougars in the mountains. No way do I want to meet one up close.

I guess it wouldn’t be so bad to hire a “Russian woman” if she did windows. I found it very confusing, when there was an offer to “remove bedbugs” with a “bedding blowout.”  If I had bedbugs, I would blow up my bed!

Then there are pretend professionals who dive into the river of spam. I was offered and “option for a divorce attorney,” a “Buy now pay later” deal, and a “one stop dental implant.” I guess that’s a kind of drive through experience.  You open your mouth, the dentist sticks in an implant, and you can get a Big Mac on your way out.

A “Luxury Weight Loss Resort” might be your last resort, because even with “permanent dentures” one would have to have a “mental disorder” to “lose 30 pounds in 30 days,” unless they plan to do some really deep “erasing of all those wrinkles.” In case any of you are interested, there is still “open enrollment” if you want to “sell your assets.”

Many years ago, before the advent of computers, there was a place called Maxwell Street in Chicago. It was the carnival street for hucksters, con men and scam artists. The inside of a raincoat could be lined with watches for sale, and a fortune could be made if you could discover the prize hidden under the three   cups which were quickly moved around by the man behind the table. Designer purses and clothes could be purchased, if you didn’t care where they came from or if they were fakes. My favorite con was the perfume trick. Perfumes that usually were available for big bucks were sold from a small table that could quickly be folded up if the police arrived.

The salesman had a convincing spiel. “Smell the stopper in the bottle.”  It always smelled so sweet. The fragrance was delicious and the price was right. When the customer got home, she discovered that the perfume was soaked in the stopper, and the bottle was filled with Chicago River water that didn’t smell half as good.

Even with technology, the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Esther Blumenfeld (“A sucker is born every minute.”) “attrib.” P.T. Barnum