Tracks in the Sand

You cannot open a newspaper or look at the recent events on the Internet and not be bombarded with news about how NSA or some other quasi-government agency is spying on the American people.

This got me to thinking, which is always a tad dangerous as using rusty machinery can cause all kinds of accidents. Trixie suggested I leave the heavy work to her but women just don't understand big equipment like Ol’ Dutch does.

So there I was considering and analyzing the current trend of how we are being tracked by companies we do business with. It is amazing to me just how willing we are to give out personal information upon the request of some high school student at the local Wal-Mart or hardware store.

No matter where we are around the country, it never fails that some young, attractive woman at the checkout asks for my phone number.

Now to an old codger like me, who already has a sexy young partner, this just builds my ego up even more. But, then, I wonder, why none of them ever call.

The last time I was in Bass Pro Shops (otherwise known as Paradise to the outdoor neophytes of the world), it happened again and the cute little blonde gal behind the counter asked for my phone number. Not to be deterred in my search for truth, justice and the American way, I asked her if she was going to call me for a date.

Ol' Dutch is used to rejection as you can well imagine and the slap on the shoulder from Trixie was bad enough but the look on the girl's face set even me back a few steps as she told me it was for “marketing.”

Later, marketing-guru-extraordinaire-herself-Trixie explained that they use emails, phone numbers and other information gathered at the cash register to find out who buys what and to send out advertisements in the mail.

Having said all that I am not sure why they waste their time mailing out ads to men.

When a man goes to the store, he knows what he wants and will get that one item. No looking around for other things to pad his shopping cart with. Now, women, on the other hand, tend to follow every sale that comes down the pike and a sale on brassieres brings out hordes of mammary-bearing persons.

So Ol' Dutch has decided to take one step toward the “prepper” lifestyle and simply answer “no” when asked for my personal information. The look on the store clerk's face is priceless but soon they find the “customer is uncooperative key” on the register and off I go into nirvana with my sack of pistachios.

And, with that one simple decision, Ol’ Dutch is once again firmly in control of his own life which is also known as “letting Trixie tell me what to do.” That was until I read recently about the new fad in mega-churches where they use facial recognition software to track their parishioners’ attendance.

Being the son of a preacher, all of this “having to know” has me stymied.

Even at our Chapel in South Fork they pass around a small black book asking for all your information. I suppose if you are of the single persuasion, this would come in handy as you could get the name and phone number of the nice brunette down the row from you as the book passes by. But now that Trixie won’t allow that as an option, Ol' Dutch avoids that book like the plagues of biblical Egypt.

Plus, Trixie says no one can forget if I am there Sunday, which doesn’t really sound like a compliment, does it?  In the end, I figure God knows I am there and He is the one that counts.

There is one thing Ol' Dutch knows and that is he is tired of all this tracking. So, I’m going to use some tricks I learned while watching the Daniel Boone TV show while growing up. Next time I go to the store, I’ll drive in reverse all the way home in the same tracks I used in going there.

Now, before you laugh, let me remind you that it worked for old coonskin-capped Daniel. And, the chasing Shawnee Indians were way more savvy than our government agencies.