I delete most spam. Some, though, are bizarre enough to warrant a response (i.e. The Nigerian lawyer who wanted to wire me $150mm immediately, but needed my account information first. I thanked him profusely for his generosity, but noted that I never accepted less than $151mm from strangers).

Then, there are the spam e-mails that unintentionally tarnish the sender's image and provide fodder for Repman columns. I like those.

I recently received this notice from American Registry which, if nothing else, certainly sounded legitimate. The spam alerted me to the fact that, if I hurried, I could still order a drop dead gorgeous plaque recognizing my firm's excellence in sports and leisure in the year 2009!?!?!

To begin with, we do very little, if any, sports or leisure work. So, I seriously doubt we ever won an award for excellence in the category. But, why in god's name, would I order a two-year old plaque? To remind people of what once was? To be able to stop strangers in the street and, after asking for spare change, interject, “So, guess who just got an American Registry plaque for excellence in sports and leisure in 2009?'

But, why stop with selling two-year-old plaques? I think American Registry should go all the way with its retro offerings and include:

– an owner's certificate for a 1964 Chevy Impala. Who wouldn't pay top dollar for that?
– an authentic lock of Arthur 'Fonzie' Fonzarelli’s hair from a 1978 episode of 'Happy Days'
– a mint condition Pan Am flight bag circa 1985.

I'm trying to understand the motivation for the e-mail in the first place:

-Did someone in the American Registry warehouse do some winter cleaning and find the old Peppercom plaque lying in a corner? “Hey Jim, there are some really old plaques back here. The boss ain't gonna be happy.”

– Did someone at A.R. find an old softball tournament plaque, slap our name on it and try to re-sell it as an industry award? I'd give them an 'A' for creativity if that were the case.

– Or, do they practice a bizarro world version of just-in-time manufacturing in which it takes two full years between the time a plaque is made and finally reaches the market?

I'm just glad the company's name is American Registry and not American Dentistry. Imagine receiving an e-mail alerting you that, in 2009, you had advanced gum disease? If nothing else, it would give a whole new meaning to the word plaque.