I don’t like things going on in my house while I’m sleeping. I hear my refrigerator doing its own maintenance when I leave the room. No one has ever fully explained to me what those noises are, but I believe that life in your kitchen should end at bedtime. My gas water heater has séances in the basement. The water softener is saying something all the time – something salty, no doubt. I wonder about my vacuum cleaner, but at three in the morning I’m just too scared to open the closet. I also have my suspicions about my son’s old Xbox, but I won’t make accusations against a game with that much fire power.

I’m pretty hard on my appliances and after they’ve put in a good 12-14 hours, I think they should get the rest of the evening off. Plus, I can’t afford the overtime. When I hear noises in my house after midnight, it better be the cat or a burglar. I don’t want my dishwasher on time-and-a-half.

In the evening, I also hear my computer grinding away. I know it’s up to no good and the result is that I’ve lost a great deal of trust in its operation. I am convinced that when the sun goes down, it has a hidden life. I thought there was something going on between my computer and the water heater, and now I’m pretty sure my printer is also in on this. My printer already had me on alert because it always has a little hissy-fit before it actually prints.

As a result of all this, I am concerned about my computer’s reliability. So every once in a while, I test my e-mail by sending a message titled TEST. The other morning, instead of TEST, I simply typed my name: DICK WOLFSIE. Then I sent it to myself—or at least I thought I did. By mistake, I also sent it to 300 people on my newspaper column e-mail list. When these folks opened the e-mail, all it said was DICK WOLFSIE.

Here’s what some folks had to say in response:

(The screen names have been changed to protect the not-so-funny.)

BARMAN (my nephew): Hey, Uncle Dick. Funny stuff. The best you’ve written.

YO926: Thanks for sending me your name. I used it all day today. I’m sending it back. Not getting a good response.

TOOCUTE: I don’t get it. And I’ve read it three times.

M78STUD: Hey, Dick. Thanks for sending me your name. I’ve sent it to 500 lawyers with a note that some rich guy rear-ended you in his Lexus.

HUB67BUB: Thanks for sending me your name. But I accidentally deleted it. Please send me another one.

BRUCE: Not one of your best columns, Dick. No plot and only one weak character.

LO1967: Hi, Dick. Thanks for sending me your name. I’m sending you mine, also: LOIS! SEAFOX (my brother): It’s always about you, isn’t it?

GOGIRLJANE: Well written. Thank goodness for spell-check.

UPSI: Please take me off your e-mail list. I have a 10-year-old.

MAMAW (my sister): That’s nice. Does that count as a phone call?

I’m not really sure how to end this column. Let’s just say that if I should ever send you my name again via e-mail, please treat it with some reverence. It’s over 65 years old and deserves a little respect. And feel free to send me your name. I look forward to reading it.