Thanks, but no thanks.

I wrote this one a couple of months ago and posted it on MySpace - I know, how very "tweener" of me. But I'll post it here because it bears repeating (and because it makes me look I spent a really long time today composing my thoughts and writing them down today).

An open letter to email forwarders:
My dear "friends",
For many years now, you have thoughtfully included me in every "cc" to every inane, inappropriate, misguided, misinformed, and downright ridiculous email chain letter that has come along.
You have warned me of gang initiations, protected me from Achilles slashers lurking under my car, enlightened me to all the secular humanists trying to remove God from quarters and schools and courts and everywhere else (after all, we all know separation of church and state is for Communists, anyway). I've learned all the things my cell phone can do that I never knew, and all the reasons I should vote Republican, or Democrat, or Green. You've provided countless chances to change my luck for the better (or worse) and money-making opportunities. Incidentally, Bill Gates has still not sent me my check for that email beta program, did you get yours? I digress. Even when I change email addresses, you steadfastly track me down to make sure I have all the latest vital information care of an anonymously composed and forwarded email message of dubious origin.
Today, I have realized, with great shame, how very selfish I have been. In all these years, I have never returned the courtesy to you. Not once have I forwarded warnings, opportunities, or critical political information to you. In fact, I have failed to even prove what a good friend I am by sending messages to 20 other friends including the one who sent it to me. When I think of how many chains "died" right there in my inbox…well, it is almost more than I can bear. Many people would have given up on me long ago. "Fine," they would sniff. "Let her flash her bright lights at the '79 Caprice Classic low rider with the rear hydraulics and thumping subwoofers and see what happens to her and her small children. My conscience is clear." But not you, my good, loyal, tenacious friend. Not you. No, you send it again and again. A sort of cyber-intervention aimed at protecting me from myself by perpetuating stereotypes, preying on fears and furthering urban myths and legends like some giant game of grown-up "Telephone".
Because you have invested so much time and effort into this endeavor over the years, I feel I owe you the following explanation as to why I have failed to be as good a friend to you as you have been to me.
"Friend" emails: If I call you friend, it is because I have genuine affection for you. I care about you and things that happen in your life. I trust you apply the same definition to me. If you know me well enough to call me friend, then you probably know my life is very busy, chaotic even. I have two small children who are not yet school-aged who I care for just about all day, every day. I run a household, managing most of the family admin including scheduling, shopping, boo-boo soothing and maintenance, and even occasionally cleaning (when I can find my vacuum amongst the clutter, that is). I own and operate a small business. I am a freelance writer in my "spare" time. I try to devote equitable chunks of time to my family, my in-laws, and friends. I also volunteer at preschool, and stay active in various business and civic organizations. Friends, there have been days where I have been awake for 4 hours or more before I've found two minutes to use the restroom (though by then, it usually takes more than two minutes to expel the 15 gallons of urine that have collected in my superhuman mom-bladder). Please don't give me one more thing to do in my already jam-packed day. We are friends. There, I've said it for all the world to hear. Please don't ask me to validate it and prove it daily by sending a flowery email back to you and everyone else in my address book. We're not dating. We're past the "prove your love to me" phase of our relationship. I don't have time and if you really love me as much as the little flapping butterfly and doe-eyed cartoon child in your email says you do, you will understand that. Also, what kind of a person sends an email about friendship that ends with a promise of horrible, disfiguring, tragic luck for not responding? God help me if I don't answer the phone when you call. Do you call in the hit squad for that, "friend"?
"Warning" and "Informational" emails: I appreciate your concern for my safety and the health and safety of my CPU and hard drive, I really do. Three words for you: Snopes Dot Com. Please take the two minutes it would normally take you to blindly and blithely forward these emails on to everyone you ever met to look up the subject matter on this highly informative site. You'll find somewhere in the neighborhood of 99.0 to 99.99% of them are completely false.
And my favorite, "Political" emails: Like most people, my political beliefs are a complicated amalgam of my upbringing, my gender, my socioeconomic status, my family status, my level and quality of education, the amount of time I spend independently researching and reading about the issues of import to me, and myriad other factors. Please don't insult my intelligence by assuming some random facts or quotes taken entirely out of context (or thin air, even) slapped into an email will, in any way, inform my vote or influence my opinions. And please don't assume my political leanings are the same as yours just because we live in the same neighborhood, shop at the same grocery store, cheer for the same tee-ball team or visit the same OB/Gyn. If you really want to make a difference this election year, save the political forwards and instead compose a brief but heartfelt note to everyone in your address book encouraging them to get out and vote. Democrat, Republican, it matters not. Here, I know how you like to forward, so I'll make it easy for you to cut-n-paste:
"Dear Friends,
In this election year it is critical that you get off your ample American derrières, stuff your sorrys in a sack, get to the polls and cast your ballot. Each candidate has many pros and many cons. Please take a few moments to learn what each stands for then decide which most closely represents the views and opinions you'd like to see implemented in this great country of ours. If you aren't willing to head to the polls (the threat of drizzle IS a good reason to abdicate your primary right as an American citizen), consider registering to vote absentee by mail. If you are not willing to do that, either, then let's make this deal right now: In exchange for the vote that you will not be casting, you promise that you will keep your pie hole shut on any and every political matter for the next four years. Not one peep about the administration, not a cross word about the IRS, not the slightest utterance on Roe v. Wade. If you don't care enough to engage in the process, I sure don't care what you have to say about the system.
Please forward this message to everyone in your address book immediately or you will develop a hideous case of hemorrhoids, hammer toes, and halitosis* within a matter of days.
Have a lovely day!"
*(I like the "h" conditions; they are the most fun to say)
To summarize, I would be eternally grateful if, in the future, you would use a bit more discretion in deciding which emails to forward to me. The marzipan babies? Those were cool. I don't mind the funny little fruit carvings and even the guy who paints his hands to resemble all sorts of exotic animals. Oooh, and that guy who does the sidewalk chalk? You know, from one angle they just look like some weird out-of-proportion drawing but from another they become really detailed 3D creations? Yeah, those'd be OK, too. I don't even mind the occasional "Edna" email (she's that old lady from the cards). For pretty much everything else, don't worry – it won't hurt my feelings if you leave this "strong, smart, independent woman" off your list. We'll still be friends, even if I don't validate it by forwarding it on to my Great Uncle and my college roommate's brother's wife.
Your Friend,
Mary