• Kim West to me: “I haven’t loaded the graduation pics because the working card reader is missing.
• Me to Kim West: “That’s fine.”
• Jonathan Deal to me: “I was supposed to finish up my deck project Monday. Would there be a problem if I take that day off?”
• Me to Jonathan Deal: “No, go ahead.”
• Me to Lensey: “I’m here (at work). I love you!”
• Lensey to me: “I love you mostest!”
• Me to Lensey: “No way!”
• Lensey to me: “Way!”
We have the same text conversation every morning that I work. It’s my job to text her to ensure I’m not laying bloodied in a ditch along U.S. 72. Likewise, she is required to call me every morning to inform me she made it safely to her job. Riveting stuff, to be sure.
My personal emails are no less exciting. A friend who lives in Denver emails me once each week to tell me about the latest beers he’s tried and the latest concert he’s seen or the one he’s going to see next. He also sends me links to articles about our favorite music artists.
Lensey emails me pictures of pound puppies she wants to rescue. Zales and Bed, Bath and Beyond email me at least twice a day because I made the mistake of shopping online with them.
And of course, I get emails from Nixle about any road work or power outages in the Athens and Limestone County area.
So exciting. I pity the federal agent who may have been assigned to pore through my accounts.
So, needless to say I’m neither surprised nor incensed by the government’s supposed intrusion into my personal privacy. I expected it, after all.
If people are so worried about what the government may find out about them, maybe they should stick to sending smoke signals, writing letters or using carrier pigeons to communicate.
Sometimes the old ways are the best ways.