Public Enemy (Or How I Learned to Start Worrying and Hate the Internet)

Lombardo warned us in class to know what's out there on the Internet about us. Then today I read an e-mail from Kate about our honors theses prominent in searches for our names; naturally distant acquaintances (fallen Facebook friends?), stalkers, and blackmailers will head straight for my fifty pages on suburban malaise and misogyny. But curiosity killed the boy allergic to cats: I decided to Google myself and see what all the fuss is about.

First up, an article from the DoG Street Journal previewing True West, in which I had a small part junior year. The author, in my Hemingway class that semester, must not have thought I'd mind if she fabricated a quote from me. With grand elocution, I said our director "experimented with lots of things." That's the pull quote that pays the rent.

Next comes a DSJ article I actually wrote, a review of the Superman musical. With the word "kitsch" in the title, I may redeem my previous vocabulary ineptitude.

Later down the page, Lt. Gov. Bill Bolling elected to copy-paste my Herald Progress clip about an event for healthy children onto his own website. An Ashland rabble-rouser cites another article on the defunct Ashland Theatre as "excellent" in his blog. I'm practically a Mechanicsville celebrity.

Add to this the expected: cast lists, orchestra rosters, Redivider staff, Circle K newsletters (with an article I wrote about the nourishing power of Ukrop's cake), and I start to feel accomplished.

The word was spread past reason. I also Yahoo!ed my name as I rolled in self-adulation (Chinese proverb say: when you can't roll in money, find next best thing). At the bottom of the first page is a link to a Yahoo! group I have never joined. One message logs an unending set of names, of which mine seems to be one, unbeknownst to moi. After my name, in Terrifyingly Important Capital Letters, I see the last four digits of my credit card! Right there, under a Yahoo! search, completely public. I'll backtrack; these numbers were from my former credit card, and have changed by now. Maybe that's why Suntrust issued me a new card.

But how spooky is that? When elected officials or town leaders mention me, that's both appreciated and in response to articles I wrote for public consumption. And I'm really non-sketchy about my Internet habits. The people who steal credit card numbers do more harm than even they realize: if I have to suffer through any more of those commercials with a linebacker voiced by Shirley Temple railing about identity theft, I may have to unleash some public destruction. In which case, feel free to write about me; it's all about boundaries, people.