Soundings

Press, Volume CXI, Issue 32524, 6 February 1971, Page 6

Soundings

by

DENIS McCAULEY

When I got back from holiday last week there was a huge pile of mail awaiting me, but as usual only about a quarter of it got read. Apart from the bills and a very belated Christmas card, it was nearly all from organisations and firms I had never heard of wanting me to buy this, that and the other.

Some of it is probably mailed to everyone, but a lot shows some selection and it is obvious that I have been put on some specialinterest mailing lists. In the case of mailing lists, it is not impossible to guess where somebody got your name. I am sure that the National Party mail I get occasionally comes because I once joined the National Party, and some Labour Party mail for the same reason. A note to the effect that you are no longer a party member and therefore want to be struck off the mailing list does not, unfortunately, work. Once on the mailing list you are stuck with it, apparently. Gradually, unless you never send away for anything or never put your name to anything, you acquire a mailing list profile. Contribute to a charity and suddenly five other charities know your name. Ask for free information on pollution control and soon the requests trickle in for money to stop the disappearance of the salmon in the something-or-other river, to vote for pollution-conscious politicians, and so on.

My mailing list profile ranges from cut price mail-order suits to a Swedish offer of a book of erotic poetry. I am still trying to figure that out but I think I am on the poetry list rather than the erotica list. About a year ago 1 had a poem published in "Landfall” and since then I have been besieged by obscure literary publications begging and bullying me into subscribing. (Not one has asked for any poems, I note with dented pride.) Some of the listings must go back for years. When I was about 10 I sent away for a book on hypnotism and my mother tells me she still gets regular mail from the publishers offering me all sorts of hypnotic para-

phemalia. Others obviously spend a lot of energy keeping up with changing addresses—especially college old boys’ associations, which have tracked me down throughout New Zealand and Australia; just when I think I have escaped .from their attentions I get a letter railing me all about the great new gymnasium or whatever they plan building on my donations. While the senders keep to the letter box there is very little you can do about these unwanted attentions. One old boys’ association made the mistake of giving me the personal meeting, used, I am told, only on the most recalcitrant former pupils. Face to face you can do something about it—like threatening to punch the man. I can recommend this as I have not heard from that lot in over a year now. But what is really wanted is an organisation that could gather all the data for you and I to turn the tables by mass-mailing a few letters back. Gentlemen,

Unless you stop sending me and my family your idiotic suggestions we shall be forced to report you to the appropriate authorities. If you have already complied please disregard this letter.

Gentlemen, Congratulations! Your company’s activities have made you eligible for a selected group to which we are sending this exclusive message: Phfffffft! I suppose it is too much to hope for, so if you want to keep your mail box clear of most of this garbage keep your name as private as possible. One friend of mine never sends away for anything under his real name, so every time he gets unsolicited mail addressed to “Solomon Porridge” it goes straight into the rubbish tin. If your name is already public property, the best approach is to return all junk mail to the sender. Just write: “Delivery not accepted, return to sender.” Put an air mail sticker and no stamps on it (that way they have to pay double air mail rates at the other end). If enough people did this it would become a rather expensive business.