Our Two Favorite Words: Order Confirmed!

There’s no such things as a free Viking knife

By Ed Goldman

If I sound especially giddy today it’s because I just  received an email confirming that my LeCreuset cookware order is on its way. So is a lovely box of “Viking knives” from Nordstrom, possibly pre-sharpened to save me time getting right to the household injury I’ll be certain to sustain. 

I never thought these items would arrive! Which only makes sense since I never ordered any of them.

I suppose there could have been a communication error. I’m told a jar of “male performance pills” is also enroute and all I vaguely recall ordering is an erector set for a friend’s nephew. Whatever. 

Look, it’s not that I wouldn’t love to accept the reward notifications I’ve received from Walmart, Costco and Wells Fargo for being such a loyal customer (Walmart and Costco) and having completed a customer service survey (Wells Fargo). 

But I’ve never purchased anything from Walmart or Costco. I’ve set foot in each of them once in my life: Walmart with my daughter (out of curiosity and, significantly, on our way to Ikea) and Costco (with a friend who brought me in as a guest on his membership card). 

Also: I haven’t been a customer of Wells Fargo in a couple of years—but if it sends me a survey I’ll be happy to reveal why.

The Economist also emailed that it was much obliged for my one-year subscription renewal. The problem is that the last “one-year” I renewed was in 2018. Oh, I think it’s a fine financial magazine—but as we’ve seen, it’s a little weak with numbers.

Meanwhile, Prudential Homes tells me that the firm “may have a buyer” for my condo. It’s not for sale but it’s sure nice to know that if it were, I wouldn’t have to bother with all that pesky marketing, paperwork and strangers trudging through my digs and making rude comments about my kitchen island and lack of bidet.

Now, “Nathan” at something called sharkweeklydaily.com says that as a veteran, I may be able to get my homeowner payments reduced. This offer was especially intriguing because I’ve never served in the military, U.S. or otherwise. 

As I’ve mentioned here before, my birthday was Number 131 in the first Selective Service lottery during the Vietnam War. That year, the draft stopped six numbers shy of that, at Number 125, thereby eliminating me from the pool, apparently until able-bodied American women, babies and puffins were tapped for duty.

To this day, my lucky number is six. My saying this angers some veterans; I don’t blame them—and had I been drafted, I’d have served. But I wasn’t so I didn’t. I should add that I had no plans to flee to Canada, which I’m sure I’d have enjoyed, but all my stuff’s here. 

Late this spring I received a number of thankyous from nonprofit groups in my region for contributing to them on the annual Big Day Of Giving (also called B-DOG, which sounds like the pet you toss a ball with when your A-DOG calls in sick as a contract renegotiation strategy).