In short, he's consumed by E-commerce. Not just by the "crazy deals" he can obtain through it -- which he knew from early on would dry up when the Internet bubble popped -- but by the novelty and convenience of the activity itself. Until July 1999, Weinberg had never bought anything from a Web site. Nine months later he could hardly stand to go on a four-day family vacation without doing some on-line shopping. "I got at least four calls from him where he left me messages about trying to buy something or wanting me to check out this or that," recalls B.U.'s Hibbard. "Finally, I gave him one call, and I said, 'I'm not calling again.' 'OK,' he said, 'I'll call you.' All I could say was 'Bruce, you are on vacation, and you are going to get into trouble.' "
He got into trouble anyway. "He told me several times during the vacation, 'I really want to go to the library and use the computer,' " Ebersole recalls. "I said, 'Bruce, it's only four days. Can't you just relax?' " She already knew the answer. "This whole thing interferes with his interaction with his family," she says.
Yet on this particular Tuesday evening, Weinberg grabs a family member to witness his most memorable on-line purchase to date. He grips the mouse as his mother-in-law points a camera. He clicks, she clicks, and it's done. "I'm kind of skeptical. That price was way too good," he says afterward. "I'm really bracing for them to somehow weasel out of it."
Weinberg has just agreed to spend $21,100. The minivan he's ordered, in dark emerald pearl, is supposed to appear in his driveway at 10 a.m. sharp the next morning. It's now nearly 11 p.m. "I should go to sleep," he says.
Weinberg keeps a detailed diary of his E-exploits on his home page for anyone to read. Anyone who visits the site (http://people.bu.edu/celtics/) can glean assorted oddball facts about the author. He owns the plate President Clinton used at lunch on June 1, 1994; it still has a bean and some sauce on it. He mastered broomball while studying for his M.B.A. at Boston University. In 1983 he finished the Boston Marathon in three hours and 10 minutes -- well, the first 22.5 miles of it anyway.
If someone were to make a movie from his diary, the trailer would undoubtedly tout it as a modern coming-of-age story (suggested title: Stand by E). For Weinberg, E-commerce isn't about burn rates or business models, or even stock volatility. He's backed by the example of Amazon.com, which has always addressed investor anxieties concerning its constant expansion, by insisting that it's not about selling books or CDs or power tools -- but about providing consumers with a particular kind of experience. Weinberg is out to examine that experience.
He's emotionally invested in every transaction, applying determination ("I will get black dress shoes on-line. There is no doubt about it"), anticipation ("I feel a printer purchase coming on this weekend"), and eagerness ("OK, Streamline, let's see what you got") to each task.
As a result, his assessment of any given E-tailer is proudly subjective. Early on, in order to help categorize different kinds of E-commerce experiences, Weinberg began doling out his own awards: Brucies for "impressive on-line service" and Noosies for those who have "hung themselves with their own rope" by mistreating him. What specifically matters to Weinberg about an E-commerce experience -- such as offers of coupons and rebates that can lop a satisfying 88¢ off a price -- may not matter to anyone else. But with every cent he spends (the money's all his own, he proudly points out), he adds to his overarching observations about the differences between sites that succeed and those that don't.
Six months into the project, Weinberg combined his observations about buying and selling on-line into a research report. He'll gather even more grist in October when three fellow academics (including Levy, who formerly chaired the marketing department at Northwestern's Kellogg school) will present their analysis of Weinberg's diary at the Association for Consumer Research conference. He calls their presentation "The Three Faces of E-Commerce."
"This whole thing interferes with his interaction with his family."
--Amy Ebersole, Weinberg's wife
But from the look on his face while he's shopping, there's no question that this has become more than a professional quest. Weinberg gets an expression as if someone's just set down a birthday cake and handed him a knife. Actually, he's shopping for pillows. "Isn't this fun?" he asks, grandiosely poking at buttons on his keyboard. "Why is this fun?"
Ebersole, on the other hand, doesn't sound as if she's having a blast. "I understand that he has to live this," she says, "but I do think he gets carried away."
Among the "new behaviors" she's watched Weinberg take on: bounding downstairs in the morning. "He doesn't even say hi to the kids before he turns on his computer," she reports. He's even tried to come between Ebersole and her favorite on-line grocery vendor, Streamline.com. Once, when a delivery person from rival HomeRuns.com, Weinberg's personal online grocer of choice, tracked mud and snow through the house, he rushed to wipe it up before Ebersole could see it. "HomeRuns, doing another fine job," he assured her.
