WEEKEND MEMOS

'Weekend memos' give our editorial writers a chance to express their own opinions, comment on topics they have been writing about, or take a lighter approach. The opinions in 'Memos' do not always follow the Enquirer's editorial positions.

Most Americans are smart enough not to eat their junk e-mail or delete their luncheon meat. In other words, they know the difference between spam and SPAM.

But Hormel, maker of that fine, time-honored meat-based product, says otherwise. It has filed trademark challenges against a Seattle tech firm named SpamArrest, which makes a system to stop unsolicitied e-mail. Hormel's beef is that the name SpamArrest so resembles that of its own product that it confuses the public.

That's what it says. Actually, Hormel wants to squeal about anybody who uses "spam" as part of a trademark, even for an unrelated product.

"Hormel is acting like a corporate crybaby and ought to can it," said SpamArrest president/CEO Brian Cartmell. It has - more than 5 billion cans of SPAM (Hormel prefers it all upper-case) since 1937. Honestly, it's difficult to conceive of "trademark dilution" with a product whose popularity has only increased through the constant, affectionate ribbing it gets.

The SPAM Museum, proudly promoted by Hormel, opened in 1991 in Austin, Minn. The product's Web site ticks off the estimated number of cans consumed since 1998 (250 million-plus and counting). It comes in five varieties now (including turkey). There's a SPAM fan club. A SPAM gift catalog.

It a way, you can't blame Hormel for trying to protect its brand identity. Its biggest fear seems to be that someday "the consuming public asks, 'Why would Hormel Foods name its product after junk e-mail?' " Hormel has been fighting a losing battle ever since that old Monty Python skit in which a group of diners drown out all conversation by chanting "spam" - hence the term for unwanted communication.

In 1996, Hormel sued over the movie Muppet Treasure Island, which included in its cast a wild pig named Spa'am. A federal appeals court threw it out. This case is different - trademarks rather than artistic parody - but the betting still is that SpamArrest will eat Hormel's lunch.

Courts are leaning more toward common sense in such disputes. Victoria's Secret recently lost its case agains a Kentucky man who opened a, uh, novelty shop called Victor's Little Secret. So Hormel may have to eat some crow on this one. You can make up your own punchline here.

Ray Cooklis