'Forward' Thinking

By G. E. Shuman

In these days of facebook and countless other means of worldwide social networking, I suppose that a column dealing with email might seem a bit outdated, and even antiquated. (How could that have happened so quickly?) I’m going to write this column anyway, as I too am a bit outdated and antiquated and, thus, feel quite qualified to do so. My hope is that there are a few people left out there who can identify with what I’m going to say.

I check my email several times a day. It’s not that I need to do this, as what I receive is at least ninety percent forwarded jokes and spam. My mailbox is usually full of this interesting but unnecessary stuff, just as my physical mailbox is usually full of junk mail. One nice thing about the emailed ‘stuff’ is that you don’t have to physically throw it away. It adds nothing to a person’s trash bill or ‘landfill footprint’, if there is such a thing, and I would bet the farm that there is. I check my email because I enjoy doing so. Sometimes I get actual notes from friends and relatives, but mostly it’s just forwards and spam. Now don’t get me wrong, and don’t stop sending me things because they are forwards. Most of them are fun to read, and I happen to like spam. (Did you know that it takes the meat of nearly three little farm-raised spam critters just to fill one of those small cans? I think I read that someplace, but maybe not.)

I do feel, for us face-less, face-book-less people, that it is still important to understand the email we get, including forwards. Thus, the purpose of this column. Below I have listed a few futile rules which may be helpful in ‘forward‘ thinking:

1. If you receive an email forward from someone and return a compliment about that forward, you will definitely receive more forwards.

2. If you receive a forward from someone and don’t return a compliment about that forward, you will still definitely receive more forwards.

3. If you receive a forward and tell the sender that you did not appreciate the forward, you will, regardless of that fact, definitely receive more forwards

4. If you reply, agreeing with the sender’s added comments about a forward, you may or may not receive a smiley-face reply or some other cute thing, and you will definitely receive more forwards.

5. If a forward you receive from a friend has one of those warnings at the end, stating that if you do not forward the forward to at least ten people something terrible will happen to you, please believe it. (Nice friends you have there.) The terrible thing that will happen is that you will definitely receive more forwards. Of course, if you do forward the forward to ten people you will have instilled a fear of possible death, or worse, in some of them, and will still definitely receive more forwards, including the one you just sent them.

6. If a forward you receive tells you to send it on to ten of your friends, and states that if you do so, you will receive an unbelievably funny or profound reply, don’t do it. You will never get the funny reply. You will just have annoyed ten your friends by making them have to decide if they should forward the forward to get the reply. As payback, you will definitely receive more forwards.

The math is simple. Forward a forwarded letter and you will play a part in immortalizing and rapidly multiplying that letter on into the near infinity of time and space. It will be almost like raising a pair of rabbits, as there is no such thing as a pair of rabbits. If you don’t forward it, you will become one small cog in the wheel of effort to not allow forwards to take over the email universe. Either way, your efforts will cost you nothing, not even a stamp. If there was a cost, you would not have received the forward in the first place. None of your friends would actually pay to send you junk mail. So, barring forwarding things that are in poor taste, what’s the harm? Forward away, or throw it away, remembering that email junk can’t harm the landfill. Just realize that, whatever you do, you will definitely receive more forwards.

Of Grass and Goldfish

By G. E. Shuman

Several weeks ago I read an online news report about goldfish. It was a serious account of some new legislation enacted in the city of San Francisco… yes, about goldfish. I only state that it was a serious account, because, from my viewpoint, it seemed to be a totally ludicrous one, and some of you may agree with me. Some other readers may wonder why I would feel this way, and might sympathize completely with the article and that new law. If you agree with the law, then my lack of sensitivity to the feelings of lower animal life would be as repulsive to you as the law, to me, is ridiculous. To this, I must remark: “Oh well.”

The article in question here alleged that a new law, in the city of San Francisco, makes it illegal to possess a goldfish within that city’s limits. This hugely silly reasoning, to me; this appropriate reasoning perhaps to some others, is that taking the goldfish home in that plastic bag is a traumatic experience for the fish. Again, yes, they are serious, (for those of you who think like me, about fish.) I must also admit that the fish I caught a few weeks ago must have been just totally traumatized. If fact, I’m pretty sure I traumatized the life right out of him, BEFORE I put him in a plastic bag. At this point I’m thinking that someone should ask the lawmakers in the city of San Francisco three questions. First of all, if any of them have ever actually eaten fish. That, to me, would be the ultimate insult to a species of life who’s emotional condition must be taken into consideration. Secondly, what is to become of all those homeless goldfish, after they have been told to leave, and kicked out onto the streets of California? Who will speak for those tiny, perfect pets? And lastly, how do they know that the goldfish are traumatized, riding to their new home in those nifty plastic bags. Have they asked them? Think of a goldfish’s life. It is entirely possible that the roller coaster ride home in that plastic bag is the most fun a goldfish ever has! It could be Disney World to him!

A related subject, sort of, (Hear me out.) is that in early spring, I can’t wait to see green grass. At that time of year I just love the scent of freshly cut lawns, and enjoy shaping things up outside, raking, trimming, and cutting the grass, golf-course close. The problem is that, for me, the new sort of wears off the pretty grass, pretty soon. Fortunately, I have the perfect lawn for when that occurs. Right around August first my lawn begins drying up… and slowing down. The grass then almost ceases to grow at all. This all happens, thankfully, right about that time when I have become tired of caring for it.

Now, back to the goldfish. I remember once hearing a comedian who agreed with me that a goldfish really is the perfect pet. His point, and mine, is that just about the time you get sick of your goldfish, it dies anyway… just like my lawn. Sorry San Francisco.