The internet has gotten… sophisticated. Sophisticated and terrifying. It knows where I’ve been, where I’ve paused, where I’ve left my digital DNA. It remembers every hesitation of my mouse, every product I almost bought, and every thought I maybe didn’t even finish having.

Case in point: my algorithm. At some point recently—between searching for the perfect Nick & Nora cocktail glass and stand-up paddle boards—it got wind of my budding obsession with fly fishing. Suddenly, I can’t scroll two inches without a trout rising out of the ether to grab me by the throat. Reels. Rods. Hand-tied flies with names like “Royal Wulff” and “Elk Hair Caddis.” The names alone sound like something Hemingway would mutter after his third daiquiri. And the artistry? Incredible. Tiny works of sculpture spun from a little thread, feathers, and fur, built to trick trout into making a mistake. They’re beautiful little fakes. Buy a dozen of them, and it will run you less than a pint of Guinness.

The fly fishing thing? Yes, I realize how WASP-y this must sound. A guy who won’t shut up about Negronis, now trudging through a stream in waders with a bamboo rod pretending to be Jay Gatsby on a trip to Vermont. But the truth is simpler: I need some Zen in my life, and fly fishing has the nerve to promise it. Stillness, patience, rhythm. It’s all the things my ADHD-addled brain has never been particularly good at, now achieved in one picturesque setting. Plus, the gear. My God, the gear.

And here’s where I pivot. This same algorithmic creepiness, this relentless digital shadowing, is exactly what we weaponize at Ostrom. Our digital team has learned to harness it, tame it, and point it in the right direction. Instead of nudging me toward another limited-edition Abel reel, it’s helping our clients find the people looking for engineered stone veneer. Or in-home health care. Or the orthopedic surgeon down the road who can fix your carpal tunnel without opening you up like a rainbow trout.

That’s the deal. The technology that tells me I “might also like” a $700 waxed canvas fishing bag is the same technology allowing us to put our clients exactly where they need to be—right in the algorithmic path of their next customer. Creepy? Yes. Effective? Absolutely.

Meanwhile, at least for now, my own algorithm will remain a strange cocktail: fly fishing equipment retargeting, cocktail porn, and—most disturbingly—AI-generated reels of toddlers acting out pivotal scenes from blockbuster movies. Which, if we’re being honest, probably means the all-knowing web wizard is wise to my ADHD and knows the value of serving up shiny distractions at three-second intervals just to keep me from wandering off to look for my coffee. As I said… Creepy? Yes.

Happy scrolling!

— Tom
Free thinking for hire™