I'll admit I'm naïve about privacy: Go ahead, drones, spy all you like. I have nothing to hide.
Sure, I realize that even though I'm law-abiding (well, there was that one time . . .) no one should have unauthorized access to my bank statements or medical records, or even to my undie drawer.
But Safeway already knows what I eat for breakfast and how much ice cream my household consumes in a month. And Facebook knows if I even think of checking out Zappo's shoes.
Overall, I'd prefer that I be known. Maybe a clerk at Zappo's will order one of my books. Thus, every violation of privacy becomes a promo opportunity. It could be!
As a writer, a teacher, and a puzzler, I get even, in a way, with those trying to figure me out and sell me something. For research in the past few days alone, I've had to go online for information about
1) transporting a dead body by plane from one part of the country to another;
2) a colorless, tasteless poison that can be hidden in a small purse;
3) a synonym for Kudu (for a crossword puzzle);
4) the number of above ground nuclear weapons tests conducted in the US between 1945 and 1962 (for a spring lecture);
5) the number of pieces of mail handled by the USPS annually (for my new Post Office Mysteries);
6) a range of topics to assess term papers my students are turning in, from global warming to IVF to the tipping point.
As for my undies, only Jockey knows for sure.