When I first started practicing law, there was no email. We got along just fine, blissful in our ignorance of the great electronic time saver.
In the early days of email, AOL's "You've got mail" and accompanying "Bing" was more novelty than necessity. My dial-up connection didn't bring those very often anyway.
Much has changed in the last couple of decades. I get no less than 300 emails a day. Although I don't need many of them, one must sift through the chaff to get to the wheat. I'm wistful for a gluten-free e-diet.
Spam comprises a large portion of my inbox bloat. I'm hopeful that the baldness cures, refinance offers, and diet/male disorder emails are random rather than based on my perceived needs. The AARP got into the act with my last birthday. Someone should tell them a large font isn't funny.
Scam emails are easy to detect. The greeting is typically English that has not been used generally in half a century and never by this redneck. "Dear beloved" from a complete stranger? While I'm flattered that a prince from Nigeria/dying cancer patient/United Nations emissary wants to share money with me, the redundant "free gift" is a pet peeve. Plus, I doubt they truly love me. Maybe they anticipate loving me after I become a millionaire from their gift.
I'm also concerned when someone with millions of dollars to give sends an email with the inevitable misspelling or bad grammar. I clearly haven't made millions of dollars to give away to strangers, but I suspect that if I had, someone in my vast organization would have proofread my notification email. Then again, "You've got mail" is an anti-climactic way to give someone a fortune.
Like all crooks, email scammers have gotten smarter. I was entreated by a foreign corporate head that needed my help in securing payment of a sizable debt. To paraphrase Groucho Marx, I'm suspicious of any zillionaire who sees me as their last hope to collect a few bucks. I still have six-figure checks on my desk which I was directed to put in my trust account, withdraw a generous fee and forward the rest to a complete stranger who, although operating a successful business, wanted the money wired to a Western Union office.
Technology isn't all bad. Filing motions online has replaced last minute dashes in traffic to get to the clerk's office by 5 p.m. Since the E-post office never sleeps, lawyers needn't, either. I can have a stack of irritating email before my first cup of coffee, where the post man is thoughtful enough to at least wait until after lunch to deliver annoying letters.
The postman is a collateral casualty of email. My mailman only drops off bills, checks, and catalogs these days. Speaking of which, I got a hardbound catalog from Cabela's last week. I'm sure this only goes to their most loyal – read "overspending" – customers. I don't know whether to be proud or ashamed.
Email from lawyers is a whole 'nother irritation. I lack the attention span to read anything longer than four sentences. My office knows this and sends me single sentence e-queries. If there's something important or lengthy, we talk about it in person. Yet, I receive full treatises electronically from wordy opponents. My single word responses infuriate them. Good.
Something about the anonymity of email encourages otherwise gentlefolk to send things they would never say in person. The meek and mild become junkyard bullies when they can hit the "Send" button. My mentor many years ago told me that when I wanted to send a nasty letter to opposing counsel, I should write everything down, in great detail, and preferably by hand. Then wait a day. The next day, I should destroy that letter and write something I wouldn't be ashamed to see on the front page of the newspaper.
Putting the words on paper is cathartic, but delivering them is an assault. Rather than pause for reflection, email emboldens lawyers to be nasty in a way they wouldn't consider if they were standing in an alley behind the courthouse without witnesses.
It's probably a good thing that dueling went out of vogue before email came in. Then again, a drone delivering barnyard waste seems the appropriate response to a spiteful email. I'm almost positive I saw a drone sale in my email last week.
Too bad AOL is dead. Given that Google and the NSA are reading my email before I do, AOL could prescreen, too, and change their "You've got mail" notifications to something more truthful:
"You've got insults."
"You've got scam."
"You've got offers you don't need and other complete time wasters."
I find myself waxing nostalgic for good old-fashioned junk mail. Throwing that in the trash is much more satisfying than simply hitting the "Delete" key.
©2014 under analysis llc. under analysis is a nationally syndicated column of the Levison Group. A good number of electrons were regrettably inconvenienced in the creation of this column. Spencer Farris is the founding partner of The S.E. Farris Law Firm in St Louis, Mo. Comments or criticisms about this column may be sent c/o this newspaper or directly to the Levison Group via email at farris@farrislaw.net.