I haven’t posted a blog in some time. “Why bother,” I had concluded, “my voice is a whisper amid a media maelstrom of right wing rant and left wing ax-grinding.” (Typically I receive a comment or two ranging in rational thought from “Right on, bub” to “Shut your a-hole, moron.” The most intelligent discourse was prompted by a reference to Esperanto, which drew dozens of adherents out of academic cubbyholes citing the future of a globe-spanning language and eulogizing “One World” Wendell Wilkie.) But today I need to vent my over-heated adrenals. I’ve been hoodwinked by an on-line marketing ploy.
Like thousands of average Joe’s I clicked on the web ad offering information about newly reduced mortgage rates. Ordinarily I’m wary of any deal, product, service or ostensibly free offer found on the Internet but this seemed safe enough – in bold red type I was assured that my privacy would be fully respected. So I dutifully typed in my email address and phone number. Estupido! For the past three days I’ve been besieged by mortgage brokers calling incessantly and emailing me ceaselessly. So beware. Think twice, then twice again before responding to any presumably innocuous offers on cyberspace. Venders will say virtually anything to snag your electronic address and once they get it, be prepared to add a gig to your Spam repository because it will fill up rapidly.
Curiously how this infringement on my trust frosted me to the level it has. I should have known better, particularly after forty years in the ad game where weasel words and small-print disclaimers are familiar to any copywriter worth his bloated salary. But to deliberately do what they said they would not do… that is callused cynicism and disappoints me mightily. The Internet has given new meaning to the old chestnut, Caveat emptor.
