Columnist Ruthe Deskin: Spam scams no phony baloney

Ruthe Deskin

Thursday, Oct. 10, 2002 | 8:23 a.m.

Someone told me it's called "spam."

That's the word for all the unsolicited garbage that clutters our e-mail.

I remember Spam as something altogether different, having become acquainted with the canned food product during the war -- World War II that is.

As a meal staple we baked it, fried it, sauteed it and sliced it for sandwiches. Our GIs had Spam for breakfast, lunch and dinner until many swore never to eat it again.

I don't know who decided to refer to unwanted e-mail as spam, but it's just one more word we need to learn to converse about computers.

I did a one-day test to see just what this spam was all about. I surfed (is that the word?) through 28 e-mail messages that offered money-making schemes, loans, automobile warranties, youth-inducing products, Al Gore bashing George Bush, weight loss, virus alerts, hard-core porn, odd sexual adventures and a self-cleaning toilet seat.

It's easy to poke fun at the new spam, but too many people are being hurt when they accept offers of personal relationships or quick money schemes.

The most infamous of all is the "Nigerian Scam" which has cost victims more than $100 million a year.

The latest AARP bulletin describes it as "an unsolicited offer from someone claiming to be writing on behalf of a former government dignitary." The typical story line involves tens of million of dollars ... in exchange for helping move the money from Nigeria into a U.S. bank, the victim is promised a hefty cut of the action and asked to pay various fees in advance. The scam continues until the victim either wises up or runs out of money. Caveat emptor (let the buyer beware) is the best advice in dealing with any e-mail offer.

City Councilman Mike McDonald must believe that blonds have more fun. How else can one explain those blond highlights in his dark hair?

A Sun reader describes the traffic on Decatur during rush hour as "the Decatur parking lot."

Among my pleasant memories are the times Nanyu Tomi Tomiyasu stopped by the Sun offices for a visit.

Tomi was interesting and well-informed about Southern Nevada. And why not? He was born in Las Vegas and lived his entire life -- 84 good years -- here.

When Tomi died last week, part of our history went with him. He will be missed, as will his vast knowledge of Southern Nevada water projects and the landscaping of the desert.

On the roads, as in a baseball game, it is the number of times you reach home safely that counts (from Fifth Wheel magazine).

For the peeve department: Some of us elder citizens like to wear jeans on certain occasions. Just try, these days, to buy denim jeans that have a proper waistline instead of the low-riding-on-the-hips styles that reveal tummies and navels.

Hardly a style for the older generation.

Whoever thought navels were attractive anyway -- unless, of course, they are embedded with diamonds, emeralds or pearls.

Face it. What might look good on the younger generation isn't exactly chic for the elders.