Dear Satellite Radio:
You have 20 million subscribers, and you have the name, address, and email for all of us.
How come you have never asked me what I listen to?
How come you have never built schedules custom-tailored to my specific tastes?
How come you have never emailed me an offer from an advertiser I’ve actually told you I’m interested in?
How come your email blasts treat me like a faceless widget rather than someone who pays you money and has granted you the permission for communication?
How come you don’t use your opportunity for dialogue to introduce me to things which are like the other things I listen to?
How come, instead, you litter your (non-music) airwaves with random promos to random channels that have no bearing on what I’m interested in?
How come, instead, you litter your (non-music) airwaves with interruptive spot after interruptive spot, even though you could know a lot about me if only you’d bother to ask?
I’ve given you permission to ask about me, but you haven’t.
What kind of friend does that make you?
Sincerely,
Mark Ramsey
P.S. My Stiletto battery has swelled up due to bad design…er…heat, and as a result it no longer fits the unit without using a stylish strip of scotch tape. I asked you if you would replace this, and you kindly said “no” and sent me to some retail merchants…where I discovered the battery had been discontinued. Thank you very much for all your help. And for devising a radio technology in the digital age that requires wires. Perhaps future radios can be pre-packaged with some duct tape or some spirit gum?