March 9, 2004
My Loyalty's in Tatters... Let's take five with Moira Gunn. This is "Five Minutes."
I just received my first cell phone spam.
It was a text message, which I don't usually get on my cell phone, and it had all the tell-tale signs of spam: misspelled words to get around filters, an offer I didn't want, need or ask for, and an 800 number to call. I have such little experience with text messages on my cell phone, I had to scroll down to the bottom of the message just to figure out what to do next.
I bypassed "Extract phone number" and "Return message" and went directly to "Erase". Which is just as well. I won't be tempted to go back and regale you in even more detail about what was so irritating about this single little message.
Of course, I realize that I'm overreacting. I'm projecting that I'll be inundated with dozens of text message spam each day, rendering my cell phone useless. When Sun Microsystems CEO Scott McNealey intoned "You have zero privacy anyway, get over it," I took it to mean that the world would know every little thing about me. I never thought he meant the world wouldn't leave me alone.
--
Since everyone in my family has his own cell phone, when our home phone rings it calls particular attention to itself. Automatic dialers give themselves away by delivering that pool of silence while the system assigns a live person to come on the line, but recorded voice messages start in immediately. The best are delivered in such a style that you actually believe there's someone there.
This works especially well if you recognize the voice, drawing you in deeper, because your brain has signaled that you know the person. The day Bill Clinton called my home was the day I wished I'd simply broken the law and made a policy of recording every conversation. I knew it was him, and then I knew ... it wasn't him, and yet it was so funny to have him speaking to me and only me, describing my personal concerns, imploring me to vote for a local candidate. I looked around the house, hoping someone was home. I wanted to call out, "Hey, Bill Clinton's on the phone! No kidding! Come over here and listen!"
Still, this single moment of comic relief doesn't make up the rest of it.
--
Like everyone else, I've been constantly fielding congratulations of every sort: I've been winning trips to fine resorts, approved credit cards, and a whole host of other goodies. And there's that twist where they ask you to press 5 to talk to an operator, who's waiting just for you.
From a technical standpoint, this is just "feature creep." It started back when Gerald Ford was president and he (or more likely, some people on his staff) dreamt up 800 numbers so that citizens could call in with ideas on how to beat inflation. It was a nifty way to reverse the charges, and businesses picked up on in short order. "Hey, you wanna call us? We'll pick up the tab!" It was dream come true! Your customers wouldn't be kept waiting. You could keep their loyalty.
Well, my loyalty's in tatters. You want my business? Never call me. Never email me. And don't go near my cell phone unless I've specifically asked you too. Yes, dear airlines, I do appreciate that phone call when the plane is delayed, but we have that specific agreement.
And Bill? You've spent your silver bullet. Don't call again ... unless, of course, you've got time to talk.
I'm Moira Gunn. This is Five Minutes.
Back to Five Minutes List
