GOODIES TO GO! ™
June 28, 1999 — Newsletter #34

Did you hear…

++ Gary Kasparov is going to play the world in chess. He makes
a move — then you log into www.msn.com and suggest what
move should be made to counteract his. The move that
receives the highest suggestion rate is performed. What do
you think? He’ll kill up inside 25 moves right? I’m going to
go in every day and write “Bring out the Queen! Bring out
the Queen!”

++ IBM has come up with what they claim is the smallest disc
drive ever. They call it a “microdrive.” The thing’s smaller
than the head of a quarter and can hold 340MB of data. They
expect it will be first used in music and video machines set
for home use. $500 later and you can have one of your very
own.

++ Remember a year ago when the government graded itself on
Y2K? It got a ‘D.’ Well, they spent the money, upgraded, and
now have given themselves a ‘B!’ Hooray! As a teacher, I
always think it’s best to allow students to retake tests and
grade themselves. It seems they always do better. (Sarcasm
added for effect).

Now onto today’s topic…

You work right? I don’t mean all of you. I have a lot of
readers out there who are younger and are still attending
middle and high school, but for the most part, you have jobs.
Well, do you have e-mail at those jobs? Over 85% of you do,
according to some polls. And if you do have e-mail… how
many do you get a day? A bit or an avalanche?

I get buried. Academics adore e-mail. We’ve actually stopped
talking to one another — especially we Communication
professors ;-). So, I was reading through my favorite
computer-related Web sites the other day and I ran across a
story about a survey paid for by Pitney Bowes, Inc. regarding
e-mail in the work place. Dig these numbers:

Last year the average worker received 6% more e-mail than
he or she did the year before. “So what?” you say. Six
percent ain’t nothing. True — unless it’s six percent of
a large number. The average worker (note “average”)
receives 113 messages per day and sends out 87.8 per day.
We never do quite get around to finishing that 88th e-mail
do we? Hmmm…

Now, since this is an average, some of you are taken aback
by the numbers. Some of you think it’s right on and some of
you are scoffing at the tiny e-mail people. I happen to think
it’s pretty close to the truth. And I’m not talking about the
e-mail barrage to HTML Goodies, either. I expect that to be
well into the hundreds. I just mean at my teaching job.

There were mornings when I would easily run into one hundred
e-mails. That’s before the day even got going. And let’s be
honest, most of it is crud. If you’re like me, you once
attempted to simply delete the ones you thought were useless
by reading the Subject line. Then it happened. You got a call
later that day asking if you had read the e-mail the boss
sent about investing in the lost diamond mines that will make
everyone rich. Once I actually deleted an e-mail that said
“Something for you” in the subject line. There was no name in
the return space so I figured it was some mass mailing about
how I could get rich quickly or get my associates degree in
gun repair. I axed it. Later that day the Vice President of
the school wanted to know why I deleted his letter about
employee bonuses. He had placed a tag on the e-mail that would
tell him if people had read it or not.

Needless to say, now I have to read every one of these
e-mails.

The article claimed that people use e-mail so much because it
is so easy to scan and toss. Plus it doesn’t cost as much in
time or space as paper does. True — but all those little
scans add up. If you only spend 20 second on each e-mail,
100 hundred e-mails adds up to over a half-hour.

The survey said we receive an average of 113 and send back a
little less than 88. I think most of us can account for the
mass of returns. It’s something I call “Getting the last
e-mail in.” Why is it that people (I do it, too) have to
constantly reply and reply and reply? I understand one reply,
but it always seems that when I get an e-mail and reply,
the other party feels they must reply, too. Then I feel like
I have to reply. And as we all know, these replies can be
such stunning and stimulating conversation.

Original: Come to my office at four for a meeting – Joe

Reply 1: OK, I’ll be there! – Sally

Reply 2: Good enough! – Joe

Reply 3: Okee Dokey – Sally

Reply 4: Super Duper – Joe

Reply 5: Stop replying! – Sally

Reply 6: You got it! – Joe

Reply 7: Thanks – Sally

Reply 8: You’re Welcome – Joe

Reply 9: See you at four – Sally

Reply 10: I’ll be there – Joe

And on and on and on. Don’t tell me you haven’t gotten caught
in this type of vicious circle. You’ve probably participated
in one. I do it all the time. Sometimes I keep replying just
to see how long the other party will keep sending me back
e-mails. We professors do a lot in the name of research, you
know.

What bugs me further about all the replies is something I
call “parroting.” When you reply, you’re given the ability to
include the original message in the reply, right? Most of the
time e-mail programs are set by default to do it. That means
that every e-mail contains everything that was said before.
Not only that, most programs put greater-than signs next to
the text that is being replied. After a while, the text at
the bottom of the e-mail has a row of twenty greater-than
signs next to it:

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>Meeting in my office at four.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>Joe

In a faculty meeting one time, the Webmaster told us all that
he keeps a copy of every e-mail we send. I laughed out loud.
I got a mental image of him actually sitting there reading
every one of these replies. It’s a thankless job.

So, what happens to the 25 e-mails (on average) that do not
get replies? I think we all know what they are. Most have the
FWD: mark in the Subject line and consist of the latest
Clinton or off-color joke, silly picture, or attached AVI
file. Our faculty secretary lived for those kinds of things.
I was right across the hall so I got every one. Heaven forbid
you ever reply to one of these. Then the person sending the
letter feels you should get every one. More e-mail.

Other non-reply e-mail includes those mass company e-mails
asking if anyone has found an earring or notebook that someone
lost. Round about the end of the semester at school,
everyone’s e-mail box fills up with, “I need a ride to…”
e-mails.

Plus, there’s the regular slew of get-rich-quick, tips on
the stock market, an amazing new product, and penny off on
your long distance calls e-mails.

And who in the world came up with allowing people to set
e-mail importance levels?! Every e-mail I get, no matter how
trivial, now has two red flags next to it proclaiming great
importance. Often the subject line is written in all caps and
carries seventeen to twenty exclamation points. I know it’s
really important when two of the capitalized words are HELP
ME.

Right before the semester ended here at school, a faculty
meeting was called. One of the items on the agenda was to
find a way to eliminate e-mail on the server to free up
space. The Webmaster wanted to delete e-mail after a certain
time. I suggested the time frame should be the longest break
other than summer plus three days. That way you can get to
your e-mail when you return. It was voted down. Not enough
time, one man said. Of course, nothing was decided and the
e-mail server continues to fill up.

I should talk. This newsletter is just another e-mail sitting
in your e-mail box. Go ahead, reply to me (but not the news-
letter). Then I’ll reply to you. Then you’ll reply to me…
etc., etc., etc.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

And that’s that. Another newsletter in the can, so to speak.
Thanks for reading.

Joe Burns, Ph.D.

And Remember: Ever wonder why candidates for president “throw
their hat into the ring”? It’s a sports euphemism. In the
late 1800s and early 1900s, boxers used to travel from town
to town offering to fight local tough-guys. A ring of
spectators would be set up and those who wished to challenge
the professional fighter would literally throw their hat into
the ring. That’s also why a square boxing platform is still
called a ring.

Two facts for the price of one…