Ducks Mahal

I have well meaning friends whom grace my email with masse distribution.  These people are like little factories, cranking out PowerPoint presentations and pics of the cutest animals in the world, or the most breathtaking landscapes imaginable and Christian messages of hope and God loves you and feel good climate control and save the world messages evoking empathy and concern for our planet and the people and the animals and the polar bears, tugging directly at every heart string of emotion and yes, even the occasional shedding of tear at the sight of someone or some animal beating all odds within a debilitating circumstance.  Hell, I even cry at pictures of the construction of the Hoover Dam.  That’s what kind of softy I am.

And don’t add a really good Sarah McLaughlin slow mournful tune in the background or my laptop will quickly become buried under a pile of wet Kleenex.  The falsetto always gets me.  Did I ever mention I’m a softy?  And then also my hair stands on end with pride and a sense of patriotism at the ones with the sound of military rock when flags are waved and troops are in full combat uniform and at football games where the Queen song We Are the Champions is played.  I’m affected easily by these things.  It is no wonder our gross domestic product is lagging, we’re spending all our time sending masse emails.  Where do these people find the time and how do these people keep their jobs?

If I really wanted to look into this from a psycho-social perspective, I can only imagine these people a) want attention, b) have found a way to get my attention, c) have found undeniable subject matter about which to keep my attention and d) somehow keep me thinking about them when typically I wouldn’t or adding them to my generic yearly Xmas card family update letter.  You know the one that starts off, Dear Friend and ends with Love from the Audubon Ron family?

But I must complain, even in the face of their unvarying consideration in selecting me for a place of honor in their distribution list that is longer than the current phone book.  I must not only complain; I must remonstrate even, be it ever so gently, as not to hurt any feelings, b/c some, if not most of these masse emails have little curses attached to them.

How many times do I read, “After reading this email, pass it on or a 1,000 curses and a 1,000 terrible deaths will befall you and Buddha and Jesus and Abraham and Mohammad are going to be really pissed at you if you don’t.  But, if you send it on it’s pretty certain you will receive 30 virgins – by FedEx.”

On the one hand these people send me a feel good message and on the other their message contains a threat that if I don’t forward it bad things will happen to me.  Know what?  Leave my karma out of it.  Take me off distribution then.  I’m sitting here minding my own business.  I don’t want a curse.  When I read, “If you don’t…” I don’t – and delete the dang thing right away hoping not to get the slightest bit of it on me.  Stop sending me those!

Love from the Audubon Ron family and thank you for thinking of us and for your consideration in this matter.