My blog is still coming along slowly. I find that, no surprise, writing isn't very difficult. Writing well is quite another story as most of you know.
So this will have to suffice for the moment.
It seems more and more these days that complete strangers and mainly corporate institutions want to get to know me on an increasingly intimate basis. Some I can tolerate - even encourage. On the other side of the arena are the insidious ones that immediately induce unbridled odious pith and vitriol. Here a few examples:
The Good:
Before most local elections around here I often get phone calls from so-called pollsters that invite my input on the local condition. For example, what are my leading concerns or issues for Hawaii? What could be done better? Would I support a tax increase if it provided ___? I don't mind these. I don't even care whatever candidate is sponsoring these calls - which by the way - always seem to originate from Texas or some place that is so remote, the caller has absolutely no idea about Hawaii in general or the pertinence of any local issue. While occasionally entertaining to me (If I respond in some particulalry indigenous pigeon for example - the line goes silent....) I equate these kind of polls as just another way of voting. I'll do that any chance I can. It's called stating my opinion - an opinion that actually gets tallied in a more scientific way than CNN will ever muster.
The Bad:
I shop, depending on my physical location at the time, at one of three major supermarkets for our groceries. Each of the supermarkets have their own version of the now undoubtedly ubiquitous "saver cards". Call these cards what you will but if we have them in Hawaii, I can justifiable be certain that they exist universally. The corporate guy that invented these things is undeniably a genius - speaking from the point-of-view of a computer guy. They represent a great value exclusively to, the supermarket. Because items are all UPC coded now days and are run through optical laser scanners at the checkout, that pretty much takes care of the automated side of inventory and restocking orders. In addition to this, they now have the ability to profile me. In a future world they could send custom "special-coupons" for things that I normally buy. And worse. Pretty cool - or not.
These little privacy-ignoring devices came onto the market almost simultaneously. (Who says corporations don't communicate and conspire?). "Of course you'll want to obtain one of our cards; you'll save oodles on your grocery bill and there are periodic rewards as well when you shop at our store and accumulate 'points'" - something akin to frequent flyer miles which I personally have benefited from to the tune of several non-descript magazine subscriptions. Of course these cards don't in actuality save you a dime. However, your lack of having one will penalize you heavily. I think you all know this - any quasi-intelligent person must.
In my case, of course, the supermarket is profiling one, Jay Morton Freebish.
The Ugly:
I got a call the other day, while I was having dinner, from a pollster wanting to inquire about the insurance that I possessed. Had I heard about this or that company? How do I feel about my company? I had to cut this one short. I usually do this in one of two ways.
1) I ask the caller how much they're going to pay me for this information. Apparently, not many callers ever get this inquiry and respond incredulously. "What?"
"I ask, how much money are you going to compensate me? Look, I'm a consultant. You obviously want data related directly on how to make your business run more efficiently and therefore make more money. Right? Well, I want my cut!"
Click. Buzzzzz.
My other favorite is an application of an old routine from Jerry Seinfeld. It always amazes me how many pollsters didn't ever watch this program.
I, interrupting the monologue of said-thousand-times-today caller:" Hey you know, I'm busy right now. Give me your home number and I'll call you back later. (When you're eating dinner or are asleep)."
They: "Oh, I can't give you my number."
I: "What? Can't I call you at home? You don't like people calling you at home?"
Whatever...
"O.K. Now you know how I feel about it..."
I: Click.
5:58:41 PM 
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