Social Media & Whatever Happened to the Class of '65

It was a little over two years ago when I first signed up for Facebook and then wrote about my initial experiences and impressions here. At that time, I admitted I had little idea what was I was doing or what it meant to be so affiliated. However, I also reported that, quite rapidly, as a result of Facebook and Twitter, I felt “less alone” in the world.

Time has marched on, and I believe I have a much better handle on the whole social-media scene now than I did then. Over the last couple years, I’ve tweeted and Facebooked (yes, I used that as a verb) much more than anything else I’ve done online, including posting essays here. My level of online activity really hasn’t diminished at all … it just changed direction. The biggest reason, I suppose, is that Facebook and Twitter are much more interactive: there is simply more two-way communication with other people than there ever was with this blog. A lot of the time, this site has been like a very long (and sometimes boring) lecture; Twitter and Facebook have the capacity to be more conversation-like.

Not everyone is with me here, though … as I am repeatedly reminded. There are tons of people my age who remain as uninterested in online social networking as I once was, and totally stay away from such activity. In fact, I may be the oldest person among my (as of today) 657 followers on Twitter and my 107 friends on Facebook. Earlier this year, I learned that just 7% of all Facebook users are in the 55-65 age bracket (see graph).

So, it would appear that my level of online activity just might put me in the top few percent, or even fraction of one percent, of my contemporaries in terms of social-media savvy.

Apparently, I’m not alone in recognizing my relative uniqueness.

Last weekend was the 45-year reunion of my high school class (in Rice Lake, Wisconsin). I did not attend the gathering because of its rather inconvenient timing (this was the first time we’ve ever held a reunion other than in the summer months). However, I still happened to play a part in the events of last Saturday evening. During the MC’d program after dinner, it was proposed that a class website be set up as we all do the five-year countdown toward our 50th (gasp!) reunion in 2015. One former classmate suggested that the best person for the job would be ME, and, by acclamation, I was elected to make such magic happen.

Hence, being so honored (?), I wrote a few emails, tried to figure out what the heck the expectations were, and just generally spent some time figuring out what we (that is, I) might do.

My decision, supported by those I’ve consulted with, was to construct a group for us all on Facebook, using their just-released (four days ago) “new groups” feature. It is now up and running. (I don’t waste time: give me an assignment, and I do it!) Two days ago I sent out an email to everyone (who submitted an email address to our reunion organizers) announcing the availability of the new group (with some simple instructions about joining Facebook). Right now, we have thirteen members. (I think we have about 200 surviving classmates at this time.)

So, now there’s a small core of us waiting to see how many former classmates will join us in this social network. (I think it would be nice, perhaps amazing, if this experiment actually works!) 

Soundtrack Suggestion

When I think back on all the crap I’ve learned in high school
It’s a wonder I can think at all…

(“Kodachrome” – Simon & Garfunkel)

Update on October 11, 2010:

I should acknowledge…

Of course, the title of this entry is somewhat a rip-off of the title of the 1976 book What Really Happened to the Class of ’65? by Michael Medved and David Wallechinsky.

Henry, Mariette, and Me

I woke up yesterday, Saturday, in a state of utter exhaustion, feeling rejected and somewhat depressed. I emailed a friend who I had plans to see and said that I was on the brink of getting a migraine and was going to opt out of getting together.

Still, it turned out to be a very interesting day…which happens to be the reason I just love life: you get up in the morning and never have any idea, really, of what’s going to happen.

I had started the week out on Monday by interviewing for a job in Portland…a position that had great appeal for me. I was supposed to find out on Friday if I had made it to the finalist stage. I didn’t hear a thing, so I suspected I was due for a rejection letter or phone call sometime soon. Having lived in a state of limbo and sleeplessness for the week, as the weekend arrived, I was very tired. And, now, I was trying to cope with my rejection issues.

Somehow, I thought, I’ll be able to recover and move on…though it may take awhile.

But the day, yesterday, as I have suggested, was not all negative.

Henry Aaron hitting home run No. 715 on April 8, 1974.

When NPR Weekend Edition was on, I listened to Scott Simon interview Howard Bryant (of ESPN.com, and Weekend Edition sports commentator) about his latest book The Last Hero: A Life of Henry Aaron. Having grown up in Wisconsin in the 50s and 60s listening to, and a fan of, Milwaukee Braves baseball (and Hank Aaron in particular), I was excited to learn of this new book. I knew I had to have it, and have it now.

Therefore, I was moved to show up at the nearest Borders store in the afternoon at around 1:30. As I walked into the store, I noticed a couple of posters announcing that actress Mariette Hartley was scheduled to appear at 2:00 p.m. for a “conversation and signing” of her book Breaking the Silence. (The newly-self-published, recycled version of her 1990 best-seller.)

Hmmmmm, I thought. Mariette Hartley. I wonder what she looks like these days.

Well, moving on, I proceeded to find the Aaron biography, and carried it around while I browsed the fiction section; I also selected an Anita Shreve novel to take home, and then proceeded to navigate the long line at the checkout counter.

It was just turning 2:00 when I exited the store. As I was passing by the big front windows, I spied Mariette Hartley sitting at a table facing a part of the room where about 20 or so chairs were set up…and totally empty. No one wants to see Mariette Hartley?, I thought. Incredible.

I took my purchases to the car and then went back into the store. There were now two women sitting in the front row, chatting a bit with Hartley, but that was the sum total of the audience. Hesitantly, I approached and took a seat in the second row.

Hartley looked at me and smiled as I sat. It was a couple of minutes after 2:00, and she asked a store employee how to proceed, and was informed that “it’s your show.”

“Well, let me just start out by reading a little bit and then we can go from there,” she said to the three of us.

So, read she did: perhaps a couple of pages. She then talked a little bit more about her grandfather, her parents (her father’s suicide and her mother’s alcoholism), and her own mental illness (bipolar disorder). First one, then the other, of the two women in the front row asked some questions. She ultimately turned to me and asked, “what’s your name?”

“Jim,” I said. “And I do have a question. You mentioned a minute ago that your mother ‘swore you to secrecy.’ I guess you were talking about your father’s suicide? How long did you keep that information locked inside?”

With a deep intake of breath she hesitated, and then said, “oh, my..I think you’re going to make me cry.”

And, really, it didn’t seem like she was acting.

We continued talking a little bit longer, during which time more of her story emerged. I then said, “you know, I’m pretty amazed at how this day is turning out. I came into the store this afternoon because I was in search of the new Henry Aaron biography, which I heard about on NPR this morning, and I end up talking to Mariette Hartley about the intimate details of her life. How great is this? It looks like I’ll be taking home a biography and an autobiography this afternoon.”

She was very pleased that I was going to buy the book, and then signed it for me.

On the dedication page which says,

To my beloved family –
past present, and future

she wrote,

To dear Jim!
Bless you and your beloved family –
Lovingly
Mariette Hartley

Then she stood up and gave me a big (and genuine) hug…something, on this day, I really needed…and appreciated.

(Oh, by the way, at age 69, she still looks totally great.)

Today, again, I’m smiling.

Living Authentically

I don’t talk much about my dating life here. But I do have one. This mostly-unmentioned part of my existence involves an embarrassingly large number of approximately-one-hour, one-time meetings with women I’ve met online.

Lamentably, I still have hopes of finding “the one.”

When I do talk about “dating” (oooooh, how I hate that word), I often comment on the high percentage of women who engage in some sort of deception. Mostly, their dishonesty takes the form of lying about age and/or posting photographs, on their online profiles, that are very dated. But there are other topics that are exaggerated or misleading, as well. For example, I’ve met women who claim to do this or that for a living, but it turns out they don’t do this or that at all.

I was recently provided with yet another example of this kind of behavior.

Last week, I received am email from a woman who said:

Hi,

We seem to share many common interests -- reading, writing, photography, personal/spiritual growth, qualities we think are important in a relationship partner...and more. I'm curious to know more about you. 
If you resonate, please drop me a line.

Best wishes.

[no signature]

The vital statistics she listed about herself, height, body-type, age, etc., seemed consistent with her photograph. She was attractive and had produced a very appealing profile narrative. Her listed age was five years younger than me.

I wrote back and we agreed to meet for a short hike (weather permitting) on (Super) Sunday (before the game). During the week, when we were making these plans, I offered her my cell-phone number. On Friday, she finally emailed me her number when I reminded her that I didn’t have it…just in case we had to change plans if the weather wasn’t cooperating.

She also indicated she didn’t have a cell phone. And that she didn’t check emails during the weekend. [Totally not my lifestyle, but what the heck (I thought to myself).] She also didn’t furnish a last name, but I Googled her phone number and was rather surprised at what I found. So, Friday night I wrote back:

Hey Gaylene (not her real name),

I know you said you wouldn't be at the computer this weekend, but thought I run something by you just in case...

There seems to be weird information out there on the internet. Your phone number yields a Gaylene Luvall, but also leads to other Gaylene’s with last names of Anderson, Drake, Damasch, Swelton, and Wexler. And an age ten years older than your profile.

Good ol' Google must be confused??

-jim

As it turns out, Google was not confused.

Google hardly ever is.

When we met (yes, I showed up…I was curious), and asked her about these issues, she expressed surprise that so much information was “out there.” She never did tell me exactly what her age was or how she got all those “aliases” (which is what the web page I found called them). She said that she really hadn’t been married THAT many times. And proffered the argument that age is a state of mind. I countered that chronological age is a precisely a matter of biology and arithmetic.

Gaylene (again, all these names are made up…I don’t have the intent to “out” her) is a therapist and life coach (presumably). She said that in her practice she helps people “live authentically” and she, herself, places a high value on honesty.

All I can is: wow. Be careful out there.

Back to Mac

I recently had a conversation with a colleague over lunch that included the topic of “what did you do during Christmas break?” She asked first, so I told of my experience. Then, I listened to her describe her trip to Zurich, and Munich, and good times with her sister and two adult children. Quite the holiday, it sounded like.

Of course, I had had nothing like that to report. I stayed at home. And worked on my computer conversion. Yep, that would be me: TechnoMonk. Hunched over a computer his entire vacation.

Really, my time off didn’t resemble anything like a European getaway, but it was a big deal for me. I now am back in the world of Macintosh. Finally.

I bought my first Macintosh (my first computer, actually), a Mac Plus, in early 1986. (It had ONE WHOLE MEGABYTE of RAM!) The agency where I was working at the time had purchased a Mac, and from the very first moment I touched it, I said “I have to have one of these!” Of course, I had no idea how I could make that happen. That was 25 years ago and, although I was employed full-time, I wasn’t exactly getting rich being a counselor. And while the Mac was an “insanely great” machine, it was also insanely expensive. However, I was not to be denied. About ten days after I first played with that magical machine, I owned one. I had to borrow the money, but it simply was not a thing I was going to live without.

I was a fanatic about owning a Macintosh. Being a “Mac person” became part of my identity. I found myself doing rather crazy things like joining the local Macintosh User Group (CMUG), and even, for a time, serving as a board member of that organization. I still had that Mac when I moved from Oregon to Indiana in 1990, ultimately replacing it with another Mac (the latest and greatest, the first of the Power Macs). I remember that, when I finally got rid of the Mac Plus, a friend remarked that I’d gone, computer-wise, from a clunky Volkswagen to a shiny-new Mercedes overnight.

So, again, in 1994, I had this whole other beautiful Macintosh machine to spend endless hours with. I wrote my dissertation on that second machine, and ultimately moved it back to Oregon with me in 1995.

However, the organization where I was employed, from 1995 to 2004, was almost entirely a PC environment. I had bargained a Mac for my office when I arrived in 1995, but by 1997, I was pretty fed up with being out of synch, computer-platform-wise, with everyone around me, and I capitulated. I asked for a PC at work, and bought a PC for home.

I told people, “I joined the rest of the world.”

Hence, I was out there in the Windows wilderness from 1997 to 2009. During the fall of 2009, I was planning to replace my 2004 Windows XP Dell with a Windows 7 Dell, when it just seemed good sense for me to head back to Mac. I was influenced by my friends, Facebook and otherwise, and, of course, by those delightful Mac commercials.

So, during the last few months, I researched the latest Mac models and finally ordered a 15” MacBook Pro, with practically all the bells and whistles that one can have…and I use it, on the desktop, with a new 24” Dell UltraSharp monitor (that I had purchased before deciding on the Mac). The whole process has been somewhat tedious, but fun at times too. It’s taken a few weeks to where the whole “conversion” is complete.

That’s how I spent my winter break: re-entering the world of Macintosh. And, oh baby, am I glad to be back!

This is Life

So, I’ve decided: my life is not stranger than fiction. My life is precisely like a real life, filled with joy, sadness, large and small risks, successful experiments, failed ventures, good people, weird and bad people, health, illness, disappointments, met and unmet expectations, and lots and lots of loss.

The differences I spoke of in my last entry turned out to be, as I had thought, irrefutably irreconcilable. There was simply going to be no way for the two of us to pursue a life path together with the clash in values that had emerged.

In an incredibly brief meeting yesterday, we parted ways peacefully and amicably. It took less than ten minutes at a local coffee shop to exchange keys and trade a few personal items from car to car.

While there are residual feelings of sadness and loss, feelings that I imagine will hang around for some time, at this point those negative emotions are offset by a profound sense of relief.

I tried. She tried. In the end, it simply didn’t work.