Losing My Cookies
I have never knowingly clicked on an online ad. Never. I
did it a couple of times accidentally about three years ago, when I was still
confused about how search engines worked and couldn't figure out which juicy
inviting button near the top of the screen to hit. But each time, as soon as I
realized I was going to a sponsor's page, I recoiled as if a spider had landed
in my hair. "No! No! No! No!" I shrieked in horror, jerking my modem's cord out
of the wall. Also I delete all the cookies on my hard drive once a week because
I have some vague belief that this diversionary tactic will confuse the
marketers and advertisers the next time I go to a site.
Also, I always lie on any surveys. Either I say our
annual household income is less than $10,000 or I say it is more than $200,000.
I never wanted to admit any of this to you, but now that you are no longer
directly involved in running any Internet sites, I think you can take the
truth.
This is not an anti-Internet stance, per se. I just hate
having people pester me to buy stuff I don't need. My own brain is already
working overtime pestering me to do same.
For that reason, I have never willingly watched a
commercial on TV either, with the exception of that e-trading commercial that
you love so much and wake me up to see every time it comes on. "This is the
funny part," you shriek, elbowing me. I am proud to say that although the ad's
plot line is vivid in my mind--young upstart with vaguely threatening hairstyle
shows that old geezer boss a thing or two--I could not for the life of me tell
you exactly which e-trading company is paying the bill. Am I the only person
whose brain simply will not hold onto brand names? I know what I like, I just
don't know if it's a Nike or an Adidas or some other model of car. I like the
ones with the shiny chrome fenders and bench seats. But I don't think you can
buy them anymore. Here are the attributes of consumer goods that appeal to me
far more than brand name: 1) Color. 2) Weight. 3) Whether it feels comfy enough
to fall asleep in while you're reading. None of these features can be properly
conveyed online. Trust me; I spend my days shopping on the Internet.