The Finch Formerly Known As Gold

3 July 2005

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A few years back I disconnected the voice-mail system I had on my landline phone. I've never had it at work. And few things in life annoy me more than having to negotiate someone else's voice mail.

But my annoyance is the chirping delight of Pollyanna next to Matt's reaction:

I despise voice mail. I hate it with a passion usually reserved for terrorists and cauliflower. The beep that denotes a new voice mail creates a fire of loathing so hot, hell would seem like no more than a nice day in Hawaii. When I used to slave away for Giant Evil Corporation and would have to travel, I'd change the greeting on my voice mail to say that I would not be checking it and request that people send me an email. I'd return after two or three days, see the message light blinking and hear those hated words, "You have seventy-three new messages".

I'm no economist, but I'm pretty sure that voice mail is the number one productivity killer in business, period. In the time it takes me to listen to ten VM's, I could have gone through fifty emails, both reading and responding.

I might try that on my cell phone during the World Tour: "Please send me an email. If you don't know my email address, you don't know me and I don't want to talk to you anyway."

So long as they don't figure out that it's possible to send email to the phone, I'm okay.

Posted at 6:40 AM to Dyssynergy


We disconnected our answering machine at home a couple of years ago, and it has been great. I refuse to be a slave to that piece of junk. If some one wants to talk to me they will call back.

Posted by: Steven Roemerman at 8:34 AM on 3 July 2005