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Wed 19 Mar, 2003 05:32 pm
The other day I brought a recent copy of The Atlantic Monthly in to work with me. There was an article I wanted to share with a colleague. Another colleague saw the magazine lying on the corner of my desk and was concerned that I hadn't cut off or ripped off the mailing address from the cover of the mag. Well, maybe 'concerned' is not the right word. "Horrified' probably comes closer.
I've noticed that people do this all the time. Magazines they share with others get the original recipient's name and address ripped off as a matter of course. I have never understood this and still don't. If you want to know where I live, just ask me. I'll tell you. I'm not in hiding. There are -- to the best of my knowledge -- no arrest warrants outstanding on me. Anybody looking for me is welcome to find me.
Is it just me? Or is this some sort of mass paranoia (my own view) which makes it de rigeur and essential that no magazine ever appear in public with my name and address on it? I am, frankly puzzled. No, 'bewildered' might be a more precise word.
Your thoughts, please.
I know what you mean, Merry Andrew. While I'm one of those who routinely takes off such labels, I often wonder why? I'm listed in the phone book, so what more would anyone learn about me?
Actually, come to think of it, when I give a magazine to a friend, I don't bother removing the label. But if I put one in a public area for general consumption, I do.
Oh, yeah. They even cut the name and address off the magazines that are left lying around in the barber shop. Now, the address on that mag was the same as the address of the shop where I'm sitting. What is the point?
Merry Andrew- I think that I have enough of a paranoid streak that if I left a magazine say, in my doctor's office, I would either tear out or black out my name and address.
One of my neighbors ran an elderhostel course on computing. I would save my computer magazines all year, and then give it to her......with my name and address removed. You never know. There are a lot of nutjobs out there!
They're paranoid.
I'd find their addresses(the paranoid ones) and send them fun notes, like "I found your address in the trash. Because you failed to remove the label from your old magazines, I'm coming over for dinner tomorrow, whether you like it or not."
-That guy"
What time's Stove Top at your house tonight again?
Slappy- Spam & eggs is about the best that I could throw together!
Nothing beats a Spam, egg and mayonnaise milk shake.
The credit card people and the internet are spreading around more more info on us than the label on a mag could ever do. Hey and how about all those people who know (my) phone # and call to tell me I won a prize, or do I want to borrow money or contribute to the police benevolent society from some town far away? Tearing a label off is just a day late and a dollar short, IMO. But I'm more paranoid than you are, Merry A.
Well, I'm glad to hear it's not me. While it's true, of course, that even paranoids have enemies, I tend to be a very up-front sort of person. You wanna know where I live? Just ask me. When I send out an e-mail, my snail-mail address and phone number are imbedded in the form as a part of my signature. As I said, thank God I don't find it necessary to hide from anybody.
And thank you for your prompt responses, everybody. Slappy, I'm serving up a shrimp and avocado salad tonight. But you don't know where I live, do you? Nyanh, nyah, nyah!
Man, this tree outside your pad was really hard to climb.
Good lord!! There's a weird face staring in my window! Looks like that freak from the Austin Powers movies.
LOL! Merry, I'm with you. I could care less who knows where I live. I'm in the phone book and no one ever comes to visit. Jeeeez!!!!
Lunch is ready Slappy, so where are you?
If I was closer Wilso, you'd never be able to get rid of me ;-)
I have a simple solution to this problem - I am hardly ever at home
Well that's a good solution, Gautam. Ultimately, though you have to come home, and pick up your messages and junk mail. Now I'm getting messages from other machines telling me I won a trip to Orlando, among other places. Can you imagine the avalanche of messages and material I'd get if I actually called these machines back?
Dream
Just the thought makes me cringe. The constant ringing of my phone is one major thing I don't miss since my move to Canada. Back in the states my phone rang all day long with junk calls. Drove me right up the walls.
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