Nag, nag, nag

(A gift post. A little while ago, I found this article filed away as a “draft” in my now deceased blog, “Limping in the Light” *. I must have written it in Days of Yore but never published it. Either I changed my mind or just plain forgot about it. Now it resurfaces to give me a new post with minimal investment. Being the noodge I am, however, it has taken me longer than expected. You can decide whether it was worth it.)

I don’t like nagging and I don’t like being nagged. I don’t know anyone who does. Even the nagger (one who nags, q.v., as opposed to the naggee) doesn’t get anything out of it. (There are those who derive some perverse pleasure from it, but they embody their own punishment.) And it doesn’t work. At best, the nagger gets what was nagged for—with a side of resentment and bitterness—but never what was truly wanted or needed.

Yet I find myself inundated with nagging. Day in, day out, day through, day over, day around. It never ends. No, it’s not from the stereotypical busybody sitcom housewife. There aren’t any of those in my life. The naggers I’m talking about are complete strangers to me. To those badgering bozos, I am less than a number. I am a disembodied statistic in their potential market share. Here’s the problem:

Cable TV** – Don’t have it, don’t want it, won’t get it. I grew up in a time when movie theaters ran ads heralding the prophetic image of a cash-eating box sitting on top of my TV. It came to pass just as they predicted! Paying to watch TV is like paying a fee for the privilege of shopping. (That happens, too, I hear.) Besides, I’m a TV-holic. No one asks alcoholics why they don’t have beer taps in their houses.

Verizon and Comcast don’t get the message. Nag, nag, nag. A week doesn’t pass without getting at least a couple (usually more) ads to sign up for one of their TV plans. I’ve even told them verbally that they are wasting their time and postage. Your cable rates would drop about 5% if they stopped sending me mailings.

Email spam – Fake Rolex watches, generic Viagra, jobs, lower interest rates, college degrees, tech gadgets, not to mention the unmentionables. There is no limit to the crap I am nagged to buy via email. True, those messages all end up in my spam bin only to be deleted, but I know they’re there. Is anyone really responding to these nags?

Phone spam – Lower your interest rates, sell your time-share, clean your chimney, IRS scams, vote for me, give, give, give, nag, nag, nag. Call me without me inviting you to do so and I will refuse whatever you are offering. Actually, I’ll never know because I don’t answer any calls from numbers I don’t recognize. The world would be a lot better off if everyone followed the same practice. (hint, hint)

Credit cards – I average a credit card offer in the mail every day, with batches of up to five arriving in a single day, some for cards I already have. Stop nagging me! If I want a new credit card, I’ll get it, but blind mailings accomplish nothing except cost you, and by inference your customers, large piles of money.

The nagging goes on and on. TV commercials. Billboards. Traffic signs. PC/Windows warnings. I predict that this post alone will elicit at least a few spam messages, “likes”, or “follows”. All of which will be ignored. Nag, nag, nag.

I am pummeled with messages (nags) with all the subtlety of flying mallets. (Thank you, Dave Edmunds, for the metaphor) This is nothing short of brainwashing. That’s the tactic. And you (and I) are the target.

Eventually, unless you are on your guard, you will actually believe that your life will be improved by a Swiffer or Proposition X.X or enhancement pills or this software or that exercise program or some innovative training class. None of them will improve you or your quality of life.

The only thing that would improve my life is if everyone would stop nagging me.


* Perhaps I should resurrect that old blog. The title is once more sadly appropriate, after a long and welcome lapse. Then again, why tempt fate?


** This is the downside of posting an old article. Some concepts from the era in which this was written (not that long ago) are already obsolete. Such is the case with “cable TV”, if you remember what that was. Substitute “streaming service” (e.g. Disney+, Peacock, Max, Netflix, Apple TV, Prime, blah, blah, blah, nag, nag, nag—each one a monthly subscription conspiring to drive you into bankruptcy while frying your brain) or “cell phone plan” and we’re back to the same old song and dance and nag and nag.

106 Years Ago Today

A BlogSnax© post

In 1919, one of the most bizarre accidents in US history occurred in the city of Boston: the Great Molasses Flood. For the definitive account of the event and its aftermath, I highly recommend Stephen Puleo‘s brilliant book, Dark Tide. Not that it’s in the same league as Mr. Puleo’s fine work, but my novel, A Song in the Storm, which follows a young immigrant girl’s life in the North End of Boston, also mentions the tragedy.

A flood of molasses sounds almost comical, but with 150 injuries and 21 fatalities, ages 10 to 78, it was anything but.

A Tale of Two Blogs

A dear relative of mine has a blog which I’ve just begun following. There are significant differences between his and my contributions to the blogosphere:

  • His is erudite and engaging while mine is scatterbrained and scattershot.
  • He has insight into the workings of our government and culture. I barely know the workings of my household.
  • His posts sometimes make the news. I don’t even watch the news.
  • His blog has real followers. Mine is followed by people who feel sorry for me and those who are trying to leverage my blog to widen the reach of their own networks—the joke’s on them. There is scant but semi-legitimate evidence that one or two people actually read these ramblings.
  • His latest post is an insider’s analysis of the actions of a nationally known figure that could impact all our lives for better or worse. My latest post has two goofy pictures:
A piece of celery doing an impression of a floppy inflatable tube man…
…and a Terracotta warrior about to have lunch (or maybe attack?!?) using red plastic utensils.

You decide: Which is making a more important and indelible contribution to society? I think we all know the answer but let’s keep it to ourselves. I wouldn’t want that poor fellow to be aggrieved by the harsh truth. 😉