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• The new addiction

I grew up in the country. It wasn’t exactly the wilderness or anything, but it was out of the way on a gravel road that we shared with three or four other households. As a child, one of the highlights of the boring summer was when the mail lady came. It was usually right after lunch. I’d run out to the road, take the mail, and promptly deliver it to my mom, a dickhead Pony Express sort of thing. It really never amounted to much, but it just seemed nice to get mail.

It was usually just a daily paper, some advertisements and some bills. I could never understand why my mom wasn’t quite as excited about the daily delivery as I was. Of course, now that I receive bills in the mail, I can completely understand her indifference.

These days, I can at least appreciate the consistency of the US mail, if not the quality of it. What I especially like is that it’s a one time a day kind of deal. If you don’t receive what you’re looking for, there’s really no sort of recourse besides relaxing and checking again the next day. There aren’t many things anymore that offer such luxury.

I don’t have any statistics or anything, but I would wager that because of the piecemeal delivery system, no one has ever became addicted to the United States Postal Service. It seems ridiculous to me, but evidently another kind of mail is turning us into a nation of junkies. Don’t get too nervous. It’s not the kind of junkie that wanders the street stealing and looking for the next score. It’s the far sillier kind of junkie that stays at home and doesn’t bother a soul.

According to a recent AOL survey, many folks out there have crossed some sort of a line into email dependency. I hate seeing those pathetic people addicted to email, panhandling outside Internet cafes, jonesing for a login or a user name, steaming up the windows while they peer inside at all the lucky bastards that somehow manage to handle that totally awesome email high. Geez Louise, every freaking person in the world will be classified as some sort of addict before we finish dicking up our society.

Sixty-two percent of people check their work email over the weekend. Holy freaking crap. We better nip this national scourge in the ass before it destroys us all. I can’t imagine what sort of devious mind would even think about work matters on their personal time. Apparently, today’s junkie is yesterday’s conscientious employee.

Nearly one half of the morons they surveyed admitted they felt they were addicted to email. Fine, but let’s be honest. They really aren’t addicted in the true sense of the word. Ask some people and they will announce they are addicted to Ben and Jerry’s, Q-tips and Saved By the Bell reruns. A person can say whatever they want. It doesn’t necessarily make it true.

Maybe it’s just that addictions just aren’t really what they used to be. I guess some of us are just too big of a pussy to pony up and get a cool-assed real addiction like alcohol or heroin, even though they still sort of covet the idea that they are out of control somehow. Trust me, I’ve ignored my email for 20 or 30 days in a row and I’ve never got the dry heaves or been incapacitated in any way. I’m far too scared to see if I would have the same reaction after 20 days without alcohol. I’m guessing the results might be much different.

Sixty-seven percent of us check our email in bed. Wow. Um, how many times do I have to say it people? Sleeping and sex in the bed and nothing else, no matter how awesome it sounds at the time. Fifteen percent check email at church. I bet that’s a tough one to explain to the person sitting next to you in the pew. “Oh, it’s nothing ... just a text from God telling me put down the phone and pay attention.” Twenty-five percent of people also check email while they are on a date. Way to really bring it, dude. I’m sure you’re pulling in some tail tonight with that sweet move.

Fifty percent of people check their email while driving. Wonderful. I have to assume 100 percent of that 50 percent is driving in front of me when they do this. Sixty percent of the people check their email while in the bathroom. I’m not clear what sort of correspondence they might be expecting to help them in that particular situation, and I’m fairly sure I have no desire to find out.

Is checking email a problem for some people? I’m sure it is. I would also guess that it’s really just a symptom, not the actual disease. The disease itself is probably either self importance or simply general douche baggery. Whichever, I can’t imagine it would be that hard to get over such a thing. Actually, it probably is. Here’s a little piece of advice for all the new frontier junkies: The world doesn’t stop just because you don’t respond to an email promptly. Technology is super handy, but only if you use it properly. Otherwise, it’s just another stupid thing you’ve got to worry about.