Saturday, December 3, 2011

Why Reply Alls are Like Pringles

The Reply All function is the Facebook of e-mail.  It makes sure that everybody knows what you think or feel about a given issue.  Unlike Facebook, however, you have never friended these people. It's like being in an e-mail elevator:  people step on and start talking.  You are trapped.  

And no, you can't ignore them.  You are a mom and moms are expected to be in the loop.  Once you are branded out of the loop your children will suffer social stigma.  They will be excluded from play dates and sleepovers and as a result they will grow old alone and end up homeless.  It will be your fault.  

Thus, Reply All's are like Pringles.  You can't stop at one, no matter how bad they are for you. 

On the plus side, Reply Alls are a fascinating science experiment.  Who will chime in first and how soon will others follow?   How many exclamation points will you see?  Maybe you can learn a new text abbreviation!  Here's one:  how about "GMOTFDL"  ( "Get me off this fucking distribution list.")

Half the time you don't even know who these things are coming from because people's e-mail addresses are always a testament to their younger days:  "SusieDawg@college.com" or "blondie@slut.org."  I believe that after 40 everyone should change their e-mail to something that more accurately reflects their status:  "fightinggravity@haggard.com" or "thinbitch@replacedfirstwife.org"

But I digress.

For those of you thinking, well, what's the difference between your blog and Reply All?  Answer: I'm funny.  I don't mind zinger Reply Alls - in fact, I encourage them. But Reply All is not a functionality rooted in humor.  It's the group home of emoticon addicts and perky do-gooders.

Outside of office CYA's, Reply Alls come in the following categories:  
  • Whether or not someone will be there,
  • What food they are bringing, 
  • What they're volunteering for, and 
  • How to get rid of lice.
The food ones bother me the most because they assume that 1) I care and 2) I would actively change my plans so that nine years olds dont' suffer from an overabundance of grapes.  (I'd like to write 'rice krispie treats' there, but our schools have banned all manner of fun food.  The only snacks allowed are bran and whey.)  

The lice e-mail is helpful, but I don't need 75 people telling me the same thing:  lice is gross, there are shampoos to be rid of it, and darnit, our school administration should do something about it!  What I'd like really like someone to do is tell me how to HIDE it. I don't want my kids home when they've got it because then we'll all get it.  That's going to involve an awful lot of nit-picking that I don't have time for because I'm too busy reading everyone's Reply Alls.