Remembering the Locals

This is my mother. Isn't she cute? 35 years ago today, she was giving birth to her third and final child - me. In thanks for that, and in honor of her recent visit, I thought I'd showcase her here. (Thanks to you too, Dad).

If you're interested in the painting, you should contact The Hub.
Maybe it's still for sale. 

We had a great visit, and I learned new things about her. I'd already known that she got her first job, at the newspapers in Sturgis, SD, by pestering them until they'd hire a 16 year-old farm girl. (In the late 1950s, Sturgis had a one-sheeter called the Black Hills Press and a paper called the Sturgis Tribune, both of which were produced at the same place). But I hadn't known that she'd been assigned the Locals - the section that recounted the goings-on of residents - or that such a section had even existed. The job consisted of calling people up and asking things like, "What did you do last weekend?" and then typing, "Last weekend Mrs. Smith visited her sister in Rapid City."

Isn't that cool? I love community news like that, and I hope there are still some small papers or radio stations where you can find it. In 2009, on a trip to Devil's Tower in eastern Wyoming, I found a radio program that announced a missing collie and a man's birthday party, complete with date, time, address, and invitation. "Everyone is welcome," the announcer said. I hope that program is still airing.

Cleaning Up and Reaching Out

In the process of trying to decide what I want to do with this blog, I recently brought it into the late 20th century by adding tags (!) and just now I went through my blog list to remove abandoned ones, correct changed addresses, and add new ones. For example, I stopped identifying as a Unitarian Universalist about two and a half years ago, so goodbye to the UU World Blog. And I started reading more critiques of higher ed, U.S. culture, and inequality - if you're interested in those subjects too, I highly recommend Tressie McMillan Cottom's blog.

Also, I saw an old friend yesterday. He wants me to join Twitter. I'm not going to at this point, but if you're there, you should consider following him. He posts smart and funny things.

Doing something new I should know about? Lemme know so I can promote you too :)

The Facebook Monopoly

Yesterday I was reading the Seattle P-I website when I noticed an article titled, "Has Facebook killed your urge to attend a school reunion?" (The headline did not capitalize all the letters, so neither do I :). At the end of the piece you could share your thoughts on the matter by voting. Choices include, "No way! I'm organizing a reunion right now on Facebook!" and "Yes, because I've already seen how weird my classmates became!" But among the six choices there was no option to say, "No, because I am not on Facebook."

And that is how I would have voted.

I was on Facebook, relatively briefly: once, in 2007 or 2008, for a few months, and again from July 2009 until May 31 of last year. I decided to leave - and not just to leave but to join others on the official Quit Facebook Day - because I didn't like the time I was wasting; I disagreed with how privacy decisions were handled; and I didn't like the vaguely stalker-ish impulses it could breed. But the biggest reason I left was that I didn't actually feel more connected with anyone other than very nice or funny acquaintances. The act of widely broadcasting my emotions - and reading other people's broadcasts - made me feel distant from actual friends and family. Even when people weren't trying to perform their relationships, the interface often gave them the look of performance. Very little was personal; I felt like a circumstantial audience member, not an intentionally selected recipient of information.

I do miss my friends' baby photos sometimes, but that's about it.

Lately though it feels like there are wider-reaching participatory repercussions to my decision to leave than just being the last to see the new kid's picture. It's not just that not being on Facebook is apparently inconceivable to some, as in the P-I article. For some businesses, organizations, or events, the only way to place an order, contact someone, or make your voice heard now is via Facebook. You can't even vote on a name for the Woodland Park Zoo's new reticulated python without going to Facebook.

I'm all for Facebook as a choice. But if you're operating in the public sphere, it seems short-sighted at best to limit in any way the number of people who can give you their money, time, or opinions.