Blogging about the year that leads up to Em and Ry's wedding has been a joy - with one exception. I have had to refrain from clicking the ads that appear on the sidebar of the blog. That’s because each click would send a few cents (and I do mean a few) my way. Blog advertising is meant to attract the readers (not the bloggers) to products and services. The small print in the Google AdSense agreement says that if I click click here and click click there -- on my blog -- I could get in quick quick blogosphere trouble.
No big deal I thought four months ago when the ads started to appear. I’m basically a rule follower. For every deduction on my income tax I’ve got a receipt filed - somewhere. I will drive up to a red light at midnight, not a soul or sedan in sight, and still stop. (Notice I didn’t say anything about speed limits.) And I never tear the Do not remove under penalty of law tag off a pillow I've bought. My bemused visitors eventually take the tag matter into their own hands.
At first, Thou shalt not click the wedding blog ads wasn’t a difficult commandment to keep. After I’d write an entry about the pretty country setting Em and Ry have chosen for their big day, the side bar would fill with advertisements. One for The Lord Thompson Manor in central Connecticut promised “ Romantic Wedding Receptions.” The rustic Connecticut National Country Club in Putnam, CT professed to be “the ultimate setting for a perfect reception”. More information on these and the rest of the promos in the ad column was just a click away. But I wasn’t even tempted by these ads because Em and Ry had already found the penultimate setting for their wedding at The Barns at Wesleyan Hills in Middletown. Same was true for photographer and videographer ads, florists, and deejays. Em and Ry's bridal production kept one step ahead of those advertising parades. Choices already made. Contracts already signed.
But then came the supreme test of my moral ad-clicking fiber. The day I posted the Saying Yes to the Dresses entry the sidebar filled with Mother of the Bride dress sites. I hadn’t shopped for my frock yet. I immediately felt like a sugar-craving diabetic locked in a candy shop. What was a rule-following MOTB to do?
For the time being, I found a pillow I had just bought and ripped off the do-not-detach-by-penalty-of-law tag. Just to see how it felt.