Most recently, I logged on to the site of a cooking magazine I subscribe to because I wanted to order a cookbook. When I found the one I wanted (a task that should have been easier than it was), I proceeded directly to check-out. I registered, entered my shipping information and got as far as trying to pay for the darn thing only to be informed that my credit card authorization had failed. "Your account number is invalid," the message said.

OK, maybe I had to insert those spaces between the numbers just as they appear on my card. No such luck. Maybe I need to type in the expiration date using four digits instead of the two as they appear on my card? Nope. Maybe I transposed a couple of numbers. Why don’t I read them out loud as I type? No go.

Now I’m flustered and somewhat concerned. Did I pay my last statement? Had someone stolen my card? Is this whole site a ruse set up by thieves to steal my card and possibly my identity? Do I really like to cook enough to put up with this?

At that point, I opted for the toll-free number, which in this case was listed on the website.

But the number was only for orders outside the United States.

So instead of a nice cookbook containing a year’s worth of recipes, my kitchen remains cluttered with a dozen dog-eared and flour-spattered magazines.

A Tangled Web

As these not-so-close encounters indicate, the Web is currently stuck in an ugly adolescent funk. In its infancy, it was hailed as a promising if misused sales and marketing tool. Too many sites, pundits said, didn’t do anything; they were nothing more than electronic brochureware that displayed products and described them with static ad copy. Today, several years into the Internet revolution, too many sites aren’t even brochureware. Requiring plug-ins, high-speed Internet access and a monitor the size of my dining room table, the sites make something as basic as window-shopping onerous.

With slick technology, websites can show off pulsating logos complete with theme song accompaniment, 360-degree product views and TV-quality video clips. That’s all well and good for people with serious computers or a hankering for downloading plug-ins all day long. But for many people like myself who just want to see an old-fashioned photo of a product, locate a nearby dealer or request a hard-copy catalog, all those bells and whistles add up to a big marketing black eye. Instead of enhancing a company’s image or creating an interactive advertising channel, the sites serve up heaping doses of frustration and annoyance. What’s the likelihood that I’ll drop 25 grand on a new car if that carmaker’s website throws me out like last week’s leftovers?