Happy Birthday To Me

Just in case anybody is wondering, today is my birthday. Thank you. Now, on with today’s post.

If you should be one of those young’uns who believe age is just a number, let me introduce you to my spam folder. Most of the time, I don’t even think about it. I’m not sure exactly how it works and who decides what is junk and what I want to see in an e-mail, but it works pretty well. So much so that most of the time, I don’t even think about it. (Did I already say that?) (Sorry.)

Every now and then I take a look around in there just to make sure that whoever is running things doesn’t toss out any babies with the bath water. I’ve discovered something about the junk mail I’m getting. It’s getting older with me. Let me ‘splain.

Once upon a time I would get solicitations to buy hot tubs. Now I get messages encouraging me to consider a walk-in tub. I used to get pleas to buy this miracle weight loss pill. Now I get messages offering me ways to reverse twenty years of bad eating. When I once got offers for low interest signature loans I now get offers for reverse mortgages.  And then there is the one transition no man wants to see in his mailbox. All the ads for penis enlargement concoctions have been replaced by advertisements for erectile dysfunction remedies. (If there is an equivalent female harbinger of old-age I can’t imagine what it would be.)

Yes, age may just be number. But to the junk-mailers of the world it is a number still preceded by a dollar sign.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?


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