I’m Not Your Support Person

Just because my blog addresses one of your problems doesn’t mean I’m willing to spend time giving you more help or advice than what you find here.

The other day, I got an email and three texts from a fellow maker. He sells on Etsy and has had a bunch of problems with them, all of which he listed in his email message. He had read the post I wrote last year about why I left Etsy and seemed to think I would be his go-to source for help finding an alternative for his niche market handmade items.

I saw the email and got the gist of it after reading just a few lines. It was early evening — unlike too many other folks, I don’t sit with notifications turned on and respond to every bing emitted by my phone. Email, in fact, is one of the worst ways to reach me because I hate checking it. So I figured I’d give it a closer look in the morning.

Text Messages
Here are the initial three messages. I did get the email he’s referring to. I just don’t drop everything to answer emails from strangers. Does anyone?

I’m not much better with texts, which is the next way he chose to reach out. He sent three of them.

That got me kind of annoyed. Yes, I wrote a blog post about why I left Etsy. And I believe that every creator of quality merchandise should do the same. (I won’t repeat why here. Read the post.) But just because I left Etsy and wrote about it doesn’t mean I’m anyone’s source for one-on-one support for Etsy dissatisfaction.

Deja Vu All Over Again

It’s just like when I wrote computer how-to books for a living. Someone would buy one of my books for about $20 — of which I’d be lucky to see $1 of income — and they’d automatically assume that I would answer all of their questions regarding the topic of the book. I cannot tell you how many email messages and phone calls I got in the early 2000s. That’s why the Contact page on my blog says this, right at the top of the page:

Support and Frequently Asked Questions

I no longer provide support for my books, articles, Web site, or anything else by email, contact form, U.S. mail, or telephone. There are no exceptions to this rule. I simply cannot provide one-on-one support for my work — especially work that is no longer in print.

Note that it includes “Web site” and “anything else.” This person used the form on that page without bothering to read what was right on the top.

Unfair Expectations

More Text Messages
Here’s the first round of responses. When he came back with more nastiness this morning, I responded and then deleted the thread.

Rather than just delete the email message and text messages — as, in hindsight, I really think I should have — I answered him honestly, trying to be gentle about it. But he got snippy and sarcastic. When I told him that I’ve been dealing with requests for help for the past 40 years — okay, maybe just 30 — he came back with more nastiness and told me I should give up blogging.

Oh really? Being a blogger means you’ll help any schmuck who reads your words and wants personalized assistance?

I told him that after blogging for more than 20 years that wasn’t likely.

I also told him that he needs an attitude adjustment and he needs to stop expecting strangers to help him with his problems. (I wish I still had the actual text I sent, but I deleted the whole exchange right after sending that last one and, for once, Apple has actually removed it from Messages on all of my devices. Go figure.) I wasn’t being nice anymore. I was being blunt. I wanted this guy to go away and I really don’t give a damn if he likes me or not.

But that’s my point of view on the issue. Yes, I wrote about it. I wrote 2600 words about it. That’s all I have to say on this matter in a public forum. My blog does not exist as a gateway to using me for support. It’s all of the support I am willing to give, all packaged up in individual blog posts.

Solve Your Own Problems

And that brings me to this, which I see as a major problem in today’s world: no one wants to do their homework anymore. Everyone would rather just get all the answers from someone else, even if that person is a stranger.

Like me, this guy has become dissatisfied with Etsy. Well, Etsy isn’t the only place to sell. There’s Shopify and some maker co-op that the folks on Mastodon keep pushing and the solution I went with: setting up a shop with my Square account. A Google search for “where can I sell my homemade widgets” will get him started on possible solutions. Reading reviews and blog posts and forum posts about those solutions can help him learn the pros and cons of them — so he can pick the one that’s right for him and his business.

Expecting a perfect stranger to take him by the hand in a phone call and walk him through the process of finding his perfect solution is unrealistic.

I have a full life and lots of things to take up my time. (Including, apparently, ranting about situations like this in my blog.) I’m running three small businesses by myself and trying to bring in some extra income in early retirement, before taking social security payments. I should be working on my Great Loop book or making jewelry right now. (I hope to do both with the rest of my day.)

Maybe our text exchange will be a wakeup call for him.

Or maybe it won’t.

Wanderlust on a Boat Update

A quick update to Tuesday’s post.

After writing Tuesday’s blog post about Wanderlust and my desire to buy a new boat, I broke down and made an offer on one of the boats I had been looking at online. My offer was accepted and I am now in the process of completing the sale. With luck, I’ll be cruising on it in about a month.

If you’d like some information about what went into the decision to buy this particular boat, you can find it on My Great Loop Adventure blog. That’s where I write only about things related to the Great Loop and my travels along it.

Cancelling Amazon Prime

I just don’t think it’s worth the cost — for me.

I joined Amazon Prime when it first started in 2005. Back then, it was $79/year and all it guaranteed was free 2-day shipping. I’m pretty sure that applied to all items on Amazon and that might be because back then when you bought from Amazon it was actually sold by Amazon and shipped by Amazon. (None of the “marketplace” crap there is today.)

Time went on. My subscription renewed annually. I lived in a little town in Arizona that had very little retail shopping other than groceries, hardware, and ranch supplies. Amazon helped me get good deals and quick delivery on the computer components, software, books, and other items I needed in my job as a freelance computer book author. I enjoyed the ability to order anything and have it shipped to me for free within two days.

Amazon added Prime video in 2011. It didn’t matter to me because I had super crappy Internet service at home and satellite TV so I didn’t need/want to stream video. Of course, that changed in 2013 when I moved to Washington State, got super fast Internet, and skipped the satellite or cable service. But I’m not big on watching TV so I really didn’t stream much on Amazon. I had Netflix. And a DVD player.

In 2014, the annual price for Prime membership increased to $99/year. They added Prime Pantry, Amazon Music, and Amazon Photos, none of which held any interest for me. Amazon Now was also added; it offered same-day shipping in metropolitan areas as far removed from my rural home as can be imagined. But Prime still seemed like a good deal for free shipping within 2 days.

Prime Day debuted in 2015. It basically conned Prime members into buying more crap they didn’t need — although I did get a smoking deal on a hybrid queen-sized mattress for my camper one year.

Prime Reading started in 2016, although I only discovered it last year. It offered a limited selection of books and magazines to read for free. I used this feature to read a few magazines I couldn’t get at the library.

When the Amazon Rewards Visa card came out in 2017, I got one. I earned points for my purchases and used those points to buy things on Amazon. No annual fee. I still have the card but I rarely use it; Chase (the bank that runs the card) has super shitty customer service so I now mostly use my Apple Card, which gives me “cash back” that I can spend anywhere. 2017’s Prime Wardrobe did not interest me in the least. And the special Prime benefits at Whole Foods were useless to me because there wasn’t a Whole Foods within 200 miles of my home.

When the Prime membership price went up to $119/year in 2018, I started wondering whether the free shipping — which was really the only feature I used regularly — was worth it. It’s around then that I started streaming video in an effort to get my money’s worth. But I didn’t stream much.

2020 and covid rolled around. All of a sudden, I wasn’t getting free 2-day shipping. I was lucky to get items I ordered within a week. It was the lockdown, of course, and I really couldn’t blame Amazon. It was temporary — or at least that’s what I thought.


Amazon will ship for free even if you aren’t a Prime member. Just buy at least $25 worth of eligible stuff.

Truth is, I haven’t gotten regular 2-day shipping on Prime items from Amazon since Covid lockdowns began. It’s been more than two years.

So this year, when Amazon announced that it was raising the price of prime membership to $149/year. I took a good, hard look at what I was getting for that. A lot of folks don’t realize it, but if you spend $25 or more on Prime eligible items, you get those items shipped for free even if you’re not a prime member. I just tested this by logging out and adding a $14.99 item to my shopping cart. See the screen grab here? Buy $10.01 more and it all ships free.

Then I started to explore my Prime membership settings. They offered this helpful graphic to show how much I used Prime features:


In 12 months, I had 80 free shipments — which I could have had without Prime membership — and watched just 14 movies or TV shows.

I concluded that Amazon Prime simply wasn’t worth $149/year to me. Frankly, it isn’t even worth $119. Maybe not even $99, unless I start watching a lot more television.

So with my membership up for renewal on March 12 at the new $149/year rate, I decided to cancel — or “pause,” which apparently removes features and stops billing but keeps my account on standby in case I want to fire it back up. Cancel is an option, too, and I suspect that I’ll use it if they start spamming me to come back.

It’s pretty obvious that Jeff Bezos — with his fancy new yacht — doesn’t need my money. And why should I spend my money on services I don’t need or use?

You can read more details about the history of Amazon Prime from 2005 to 2020 in this article.