My Name is Ron. K. Jeffries, and I have NO LIFE.
Yesterday I visited my favorite mall, Amazon, to purchase a book by Loring Wirbel. That task took maybe 45 seconds. Then it began.
Amazon informed me that if I spent about five more dollars, shipping would be FREE. Since “free” is a powerful word, I thought what the hell, I must “need” (want) one more small item.
Off to TOOLS, but alas, those were in the $50 to $100 range, and I was pretty sure my wonderful and remarkably patient wife would, well, uh notice and quite possibly even “suggest” I go back to our previous agreement where I’d email her when I needed a book from Amazon. (Not that long ago I figured out I could HELP her by doing Amazon myself. Unfortunately as a result, our credit card bill has suffered to some extent. But I feel so, EMPOWERED. Damn I do love One-Click shopping.
But I digress. Since tools were pricey for the goal at hand (spend another $5 to get free shipping) I checked out mobile phone accessories. BINGO, I found and purchased a somewhat-needed car charger for my Kyocera 414, a low cost but wonderful CDMA phone I’m using until I find Just The Right Toy (which may be a Treo 650 from Verizon, or that cool new Samsung with the sliding QWERTY keyboard that’s coming Real Soon Now. (But if they do not promise an upgrade to Windows Mobile 2005 that otherwise very nice option goes overboard in a nanosecond.)
Having met the required $25 hurdle to get free shipping, you might assume I would hit the checkout line and be done with it. You would assume wrong. Amazon, crazy like a fox, reminds me of book titles and title similar to those books I’ve recently looked at in one way or another.
And therein lies a tale. When I wrote my first letter to Rev. A. K.M. Adams, I used Amazon’s (excellent!) search to find the word “exegetical.” So here I am, again in the warm embrace of Amazon, simply trying to make my way to the checkout stand, when, not unlike the clerk who asks “Did you find everything OK?” they show me a range of book titles.
At this point I decide (and I’m almost certain I’ll later regret this…) that I really should read some of what Rev. AKMA has written. I look through what Amazon offers, and select a dense volume from 1995 that will explain “post modern criticism” in a theological context.
Excuse me? I am not a theologian. Well, I must admit, I was raised as the adopted son of a Seventh Day Adventist minister. (A wonderful person, and may he rest in peace.)
Even so, I am struggling to understand why I was moved to spend $13 to purchase an obscure book that will be a difficult read, on a subject that has at best passing interest (to me)?
In an odd, VIRTUAL LIFE way, this all makes some sense. I’ve followed AKMA’s blog for a few years. He seems like an interesting, even delightful human being. Other bloggers interact with AKMA from time to time, such as Ms. Sessums. So while at the Amazon Virtual Mall I made an IMULSE PURCHASE of a DENSE and DIFFICULT book I’ll now must FORCE myself to read.
Context: my Amazon Covenant with my Wonderful Wife, states (more or less) “You buy it, you read it.”
I feel this is all upside down. I INNOCENTLY wandered into the Amazon mall to purchase a book by my buddy Loring Wirbel. Then, not unlike a bad BUT EFFECTIVE infomercial on TV, I was sucked down a buying rat hole causing me to buy an $8.99 power adapter for a phone I’ll soon discard. At least that small purchase netted me free shipping. But then Amazon seduced me into spending another $13 on a book I’m now OBLIGATED to read.
Dear Virtual Friends: Help me before I shop again.
This may call for a new 12-Step program. Eeach week I attend a meeting of fellow Virtual Losers. When it’s my turn, I’ll stand and testify: “My Name is Ron. K. Jeffries, and I have NO LIFE.”