SPAM IT ALL

4/10/04

Somebody, somewhere, has decided that I need to refurbish, renew or recreate my old, shopworn persona. I really can be a handsome, sexy, rich man about town, or so they tell me. It’s the sex part that seems to be most bothersome.

I spend a lot of time in front of my computer. I find computing to be informative, educational entertainment, but mostly I compute because it helps me avoid more strenuous work. I have always tried to avoid strenuous work. I believe that if God had wanted us to work he would have made it easier.

In any case, computing has lately provided me with more than my share of spam. Now, I like the old fashioned spam – the kind in the can – though it is a bit high in sodium for a man in my condition and I’ve never really wanted to find out what part of a hog it is made of. It’s that computer kind of spam that’s making my life difficult.

Every day I get about thirty, maybe even a hundred and thirty, offers of various pills, potions or devices that absolutely guarantee to increase my energy, make me more vital, improve my appearance or enhance certain of my body parts. Young ladies, or purported young ladies, offer to entertain me with pictures of themselves in various stages of undress or doing things that occupied my mind at age fifteen. I don’t think of them so much now that I’m a half-century-older.

I would probably take them up on their offers if I thought their products would really work. But, I am an overweight, old man who looks a bit like Santa Claus. My teeth are going, my hearing is going, and many of my body parts are obviously in decline from overuse, misuse or neglect. I have serious doubts that a few gallons of mango-guava-ginseng elixir are not going to overcome the ravages of time.

As for restoring my youth, I’m not sure I particularly like that idea anyway. If I recall correctly, I was not even then considered to be especially attractive to the ladies. Mostly they called me names and avoided me as much as possible. Teenage sex was, for me, primarily a philosophical concept, rather than a reality.

I admit, earlier in my life, I have viewed pictures and films of the type the “young” ladies offer. I was initially a bit shocked, embarrassed, surprised and titillated. Then I wondered how they did what did. And finally, I thought the whole thing rather boring. Participants obviously were not chosen for their acting abilities. The plot line follows a simple formula; the story climax is always the same. I’d rather read a good book where my imagination can run wild.

After reviewing today’s collection of spam, I am imagining an old man, who looks like Santa, in a permanent state of enhancement, looking for young ladies interested in making a film. It is a disappointing picture. I am sure my arms, legs and back will not bend to the task, but it might work out okay if I buy one of those medical insurance policies I’m being offered.

Oh well, I can’t afford any of that stuff anyway. My social security check just won’t stretch that far. So if you are the one sending me these offers, you can stop for now. I’ll get back to you and give your products a try, just as soon as Mr. Abdul Mbumba from Nigeria deposits all that money in my bank account.