Saturday, August 14, 2004

My life in the margin for error

Several weeks ago I found myself being polled by the Morgan polling company on my door step. It is only now that I am able to talk about the experience. (Because I have been reflecting…and because I have run out of other things to say on this blog).

The poll dude asked a number of searching and not so searching questions.

‘Have you read any part of the most recent issue of Business Review Weekly’?

‘Um, no.’

‘What about any other of these current issues?’

[Me flips through booklet with page after page of front covers of current magazine issues]. ‘Um, no. Wait. I’ve read this issue of the ABC Delicious magazine.’

But I swear it was only because they had a delightful angelhair pasta recipe. Other than that I don’t read magazines. Lord, why has thou forsaken me?

‘Oh, does the Internet count? I’ve read some of these publications on the Internet.’


Oh, Internet, I weep for thee. People still don't like you.

‘When you agreed to do this survey, did you realise that you would still be perched on your front verandah 40 minutes later missing out on your valuable nap opportunity during your infant son’s all too brief afternoon sleep and that you will be pestered by phone several times in the next week to fill out a further survey booklet the size of three bibles when in fact you will throw this book away as soon as my back is turned?’

‘Um, no.’

Actually, I relished the opportunity to do the survey (and kind of intended to follow through with the survey book until I was put off by its enormous size and aggressive demeanour) because I like any opportunity to pass off my puerile, sashimi-sucking, upper-middle-class viewpoints as the perspectives of the man on the clapham omnibus (who does not like sashimi).

I like to think that I alone could skew the survey in awkward directions. With enough effort on my part, some truly terrible products could be released onto the market.

(And a special prize to the first commenter to write in and say: 'And just what you makes you think you're upper-middle-class, jerkoff?')

Coming up in the next post: Morgan survey question inspires ‘what am I doing with my life’ epiphany. Kind of.

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