Thursday, January 28, 2010

Catching Up While Remaining Stubborn

Thus far, I still don't have a Face Book account or a Twitter Account.

My sister invited me to Twitter ages ago—I stubbornly wouldn't join because she wouldn't join Plaxo. Since then I've stopped using Plaxo and replaced it's functionality with the far more useful tool: Google Reader (people don't have to be subscribed to Google Reader for me to get updated from their sites).

I still don't care about the minutiae that twitter puts forth.

I remember trying to log into Face Book back when it was first launching and opening up. I had just graduated from community college and back then it was just a college thing, and apparently my community college wasn't in it's database—so I gave up.

About a year later, Face Book was starting to really explode. I swear I had one, because I vaguely recall signing up just so I could see some pictures a Family Member had posted. I think I logged in once to see the pictures and never logged in again. I tried logging in recently, and if I did have an account, it's long since been purged from the system.

Now it's a worldwide phenomenon—and I'm refusing to join.

I know there are benefits, my wife keeps pestering me to join so I can keep up with all my Friends from High School—she mocks me that she's friends with all my high school friends. At this point, I think it would be nice to keep up with everyone, but I don't want to deal with the inane aspects. The people you don't know requesting you join their list of friends that they don't know—a list they will continue to grow until it rivals the population of China. The post X in your status notes. The people that post moronic things on your wall, or things best dealt with privately on your public wall. The Games, the games, and the Games.

I prefer Blogs paired with an RSS reader. It's a control issue to be sure, and it definitely lacks in the networking department. I was happy that a friend from back then messaged me on Yahoo messenger when I was logged in the other day.

She questioned the fact that I was even using that account. I don't really—but a certain eCommerce site won't let me change my e-mail address to Google, because the name matches my login name (Never mind the fact that it also matches my yahoo account, but apparently they've changed policy and I'm grandfathered in as far as that email goes. I'd have to change my login on their site in order to change my email address to my Google account it's not worth it). I've Digressed.

So we chatted momentarily. I remembered to get her blog and now I've read through some posts and caught up a bit. From there I was able to link to to some other friends blogs and find out what they're up to (Including a Teacher of mine that I always considered a good friend). There's still a few people I'd like to keep up with a little more—maybe I'll remember to ask them if they have blogs someday—I'm still being stubborn about Face Book. 


  1. I don't do facebook either. I don't see the point. I have e-mail; I have a blog; I have a phone; I have a snailmailbox. I don't have time to facebook.

    Two years ago with teens it was ALL myspace. Now, no one does myspace.
    Oh, and there's a link on my blog to immortal motor sports. I think you'll recognize that former classmate.

    And, to make you feel old: Remember Gabe? (I'll leave out the last name for privacy sake.) Well, I teach his daughter in 7GT this year. Yeah, I know. Tell me how weird it was to see him at parent-teacher conference. (Actually, his daughter's really shy, so I didn't ever ask her about her family, and when I saw "dad" there in front of me, I burst out laughing without even greeting him first. Fortunately, my reaction really amused/pleased him, as he thought I'd forgotten him. My reaction proved beyond all doubt that I hadn't.)

  2. What really made feel old, was when you mentioned on your blog that you now have students that were two on 9/11.

  3. Yeah, that makes me feel old, too. But then again, I am 44 now, which makes me ANCIENT in the eyes of the 12-year-olds.