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CHECKING YOUR INBOX
IS NOT ALWAYS FUN
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I was checking emails on my iPhone at the breakfast table a
couple of weeks ago and was delighted to announce to my wife that she had
finally joined an exclusive club.
"Congratulations," I said as I finished reading an
email from an irate reader. "You just received your first hate
mail."
She looked up from her yogurt and blueberries. "Me?"
she asked. "What did I do?"
I happily read her the email. The first part was a tirade about
a recent column I wrote about Donald Trump, which always brings out the
haters, as expected. But it was the last line I really wanted to share with
my wife, who is quite often a fixture in this column.
"I also feel very sorry for you," the reader added at
the end, "because your wife does not seem like a nice person."
We got a good laugh over that one, because it made absolutely
no sense. Any family member I write about has veto power over columns before
they're published. And I should also note, if I value my life, that my wife
is a genuinely nice person.
I get a lot of emails from readers. It's the most enjoyable
part of this column writing gig, because 95% of the emails are positive.
There are some wonderful people out there who simply write to say how much
they enjoy and relate to something I've written. I appreciate it greatly and
it keeps me going.
It's the 5%, though, that can sometimes be tough to swallow.
For example, last week I wrote about my son proposing to his longtime
girlfriend. It was a memorable, joyous time for our family and I was certain
the response would be universally positive. Who could possibly take offense
at such a wondrous occasion?
The first email I opened was a blistering attack on my son, who
apparently had the unmitigated gall to ask his girlfriend's father for
permission to marry his daughter. "All I can say is what century are
you and your son living in?" a woman wrote. "Barf! It is this
ingrained archaic thinking that keeps gender equality such a struggle. I
hope your son is really more progressive than he comes off in your
column."
For some reason, this email really bothered me. I didn't
begrudge the woman for her thoughts about a very old and storied tradition.
She made a valid point about its feminist implications. She doesn't like the
tradition---fine with me. It was her tone that bothered me. It came off as
mean-spirited, and I was disappointed that she chose to attack at such a
joyous time.
It's the age of Yelp. People have opinions, and they're
certainly not shy about sharing them, no matter who they offend. I own
restaurants, and I learned long ago that a thick skin comes in handy. But it
still amazes me when people drop a 1-star review on a restaurant and urge
others to never eat there. They literally root for the restaurant to close
and the proprietor to lose their livelihood, simply because they had one bad
meal.
Hate mail comes in all shapes and sizes. The premise of
"If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at
all" is long gone. This is the age of instant attack, where a
blistering email or a review can be rattled off in seconds. Who cares who it
offends, or hurts?
I reply to every email from readers, including the hateful
ones. My father, who wrote a column for The Chronicle for almost 50 years,
had a classic response to the hate mail he occasionally received:
"One more nasty letter like that one," he would
write, "and I'll be forced to cancel your subscription."
Instead, I usually thank the reader for his or her thoughts,
and let them know I'm sorry if I offended them, which is usually true.
In the case of the tradition-hater, I couldn't stomach caving
in to her. I told her I respected her opinion, but didn't appreciate her
trying to make my son feel bad for choosing to follow tradition.
Then I called my son. "You got hate mail," I proudly
told him. "Congratulations!"
He had the same reaction as my wife. "What did I
do?"he asked, chuckling.
The answer was simple. "Nothing," I replied.
"Absolutely nothing."
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