Joining a club is one thing I rarely fall victim to. The few times I've ventured into an organized group dynamic resulted in canceled memberships and ill feelings. Groucho Marx nailed my philosophy: "I don't care to belong to a club that accepts people like me as members". What would Groucho think of these social networks luring me into their clutches with promises of virtual anonymity? Facebook snagged me last year. Now, every day I dutifully check in with my 200 'friends'. In a bout of cabin fever last winter, beved started this blog. We post at least twice a year. (BTW, thanks to all who check regularly for new posts. Stay the course. Winter is coming around again. ) Recently, I discovered Twitter. Here’s endorsement that hooked me: "If Jane Austen had a Twitter feed, she would be known as Rosanne Cash". Reel me in! How could I resist? Especially when I found out Twitter allows one to ‘follow’ microblogs without ‘joining’ the feed. HEAVEN!!! Call me a lurker if you must, but I enjoy the sound of the Twitter notification when Rosanne Cash literally chimes in on my iphone. Averaging 10 ‘tweets’ a day, she regales her "Tweeps" from the recording studio, limos, The Waldorf, The Plaza Hotel & the kitchen table. She is the master of the 140-character count. Her regular feature, “Fun with Diacritics”, is home schooling at it’s best. Umlauts, anyone? Last Friday night when I had the pleasure of meeting Ms Cash in Birmingham, I introduced myself as a “tweep”. She asked my Twitter name. I told her I was a ‘follower’ & a name not required for laconic lurkers. While she admired my alliteration, she went on to childe me about not being a ‘joiner’. Have I heard that before? From almost every teacher I ever had? Yes, but never so graciously…in 140 characters.
ReTweet of the week
Rosannecash: In taxi on Madison. In four blocks saw 12 dresses I desperately need. Thank god will totally forget about them by noon. #Hormones
