Thursday, February 19, 2009


I don't use the word "hate" for many things, but can almost use it when it comes to forwards. I delete at least 90% of them without opening and too often regret opening the ones I do (like the one tonight--the first picture was of cycling, so I was tricked into thinking it was a "safe" one. It wasn't). Forwards don't give me the feeling of "keeping in touch." There are numerous ways to do that these days, and a personal one-liner--on Facebook, email, text or postcard--means more to me than any forward ever will. Forwards leave me feeling sad, annoyed, disrespected, unloved, and filled with negative thoughts towards the person who sent them. (Which is why I delete them--I'd rather not feel that way.)

There are 5 basic categories for forwards (and they sometimes overlap):

1. sappy/saccharine sweet/religious,

2. mean-spirited/political/anti-liberal (I voted for Obama and want him to succeed.)

3. bigoted/biased/anti-immigrant/anti-brown-skin (I've worked with beautiful brown-skinned immigrants for 20 years--why is this type sent to me? Go figure.),

4. crude/crass/sexually inappropriate, and,

5. friendly/get-to-know-you/clean humor/cute babies and animals.I enjoy the last category, but have probably missed quite a few over the years because of my unrestrained use of the "delete" button. No worries, forwards have a way of circling around again. I'm not under any delusions that this rant will stem the flow of forwards into my in-box. I will just continue to delete at will.


Janie said...

Here, here!

I hate them too. I once asked my cousin's wife not to forward me anything anymore. If she wanted to drop me a personal note I would love it, but please, take me off your forward list . . . I never heard from her again. I'm not sure it was a loss.

Doozyanner said...

The incongruity bugs me too--one forward will be a slam against people of a certain weight, color, or political affiliation, and the next will be a "come to Jesus and be saved" type (and send this on to 15 people in 5 minutes or you'll have bad luck). Or knowing that someone hates the mother of his children, yet forward dreck about the love of mothers. Bleh.