Magazine and catalog publishers know that everybody hates blow-in cards -- the postcards that fall out when you read. Yet they keep on putting them in. I just got a new WIRED Magazine with three blow in cards and a fashion supplement I won't read, all bound up in a polybag.

Like many consumers, I'm tempted to send the blow-in cards back blank. Many people have suggested this over the years. But how much will it really cost WIRED and dissuade them from these totally annoying, eco-unfriendly tactics? How many people would it take to do it? According to Direct Marketing Magazine, they do it because the cost of blowing in a card that I'll ignore is about half the cost of sending out a letter I'll ignore. But the response rate is abysmal: only 0.35%. That means they have to do 300 cards to get one back. The 2006 story put the cost at $30 to $40 per thousand.

If WIRED conformed to all those norms, it would be spending about 3.5 cents per card put in the magazine and roughly $10 for every card it gets back. (It's offering subscriptions at only $8 year, but that's part of the fuzzy economics of magazines today, which are supported more by ads than sales.)

I checked with the post office to see how much postage they would pay for every card returned. A high volume mailer like WIRED has to pay several thousand dollars a year in fees, then 24.7 cents per card actual postage and .006 cents for processing under its special Business Reply Mail permit. So, basically it's a quarter for every postcard. Let's assume WIRED wouldn't consider the blow-in cards attractive if the cost doubled -- making it the same price as mailing a letter. What would it take for the process to cost $30 more per thousand? At 25 cents a pop, it means that 120 of 1,000 postcards would have to make it to the mailbox. That's what I think it would take to get the blow-in cards to stop: better than one in 10 people sending the cards back blank.

Are you up for joining me?

I received an email last week from Christina, who had her money taken by a door-to-door salesman, pitching magazines at inflated prices. The salesperson pretended to be a recently-returned Iraq veteran trying to get make a living, which was enough to disarm Christina. It is now many weeks later and the company has their money, but they have no magazine and the door-to-door sales company won't respond to any inquires about the status of the order.

If you happen to get caught up in a door-to-door sales pitch like Christina did and like my wife and I did a year ago, there are a few steps you can take to try and get your money back. But time is of the essence.

In Ohio where both Christina and I live, there is a three-day cooling off period where you can cancel the order. These sales companies don't make it easy, so keep track of all of your records and follow the directions completely. I took the added step of putting a stop payment on the check despite the company's threat of using a collection agency to come after anyone who dared take this action.

If it is too late to stop your check payment, there are a few more things you can try, but frankly your chances of recouping your cash are slim. You can try to use the Better Business Bureau to get your money back from the company (track down the BBB closest to the company's headquarters.) Another step would be to find a fax or direct line for the headquarters and send in your request for cancellation and a refund. Finally if you want to feel particularly vindicated, you can sue in Small Claims court to recover the money that was taken. In Ohio you can sue for up to three times the amount of the original damages, and since the company must have a lawyer represent it, you'll likely get a quick settlement out of court.

I hope you can learn from our mistakes, buying magazines from door to door salespeople is a bad idea. You're better off going to the publisher's website to get the best deal or support a family member's kid selling them through school. Door to door magazine sales are rife with high prices, scams and long delays in receiving magazines, save your money and avoid these traveling liars!

This post is part of our series ranking the top 25 bygone products and trends we'd like to see return.

Before Martha Stewart was even born; when Mid-Century Modern was in the future; before anyone had come up with the moniker "shelter mag," House & Garden magazine had already hit its stride. The magazine was launched in 1901 as an architecture journal, and was transformed into one of the first publications about interior design when the legendary Conde Nast took over a decade later.

While House & Garden would go through several rough spots (notably, being renamed "HG" when Anna Wintour, later to be the famous "Devil" and Vogue editor, was editor-in-chief), even closing down for a few years in the early 1990s, it was still always at the top of the list of venerable magazine titles. But in November 2007, Conde Nast announced abruptly that the December issue would be the magazine's last.

It was a personnel issue that prompted the magazine's closure; its publisher had left a month earlier, abruptly, after having set an awkward direction for advertisers. The declining ad revenue, housing downturn and rudder-less staff meant a turnaround would be slow and expensive; Conde Nast's management didn't have the stomach for it.

The magazine's departure, though, didn't sit well with its loyal readers' stomachs, and they've been clamoring to get the stylish title back (along with its vivid and talented editor, Dominique Browning) since the announcement was made. What will it take to give H&G one more life? We don't know, but we're certainly eager to see it happen.

Which defunct magazines do you miss?