I admit to feeling curious.
I’ve been hearing bits and pieces about celebrities doing their Twitter thing, or Tweeting, or whatever they call it. Apparently, people can sign up to be on people’s Twitter list, and they receive periodic messages from the individuals that keep them pretty much updated on every move the person makes.
Though skeptical about how much pertinent information I’d actually glean from this Twitter stuff, I did find myself more than a little eager to see what all the buzz was about. So, with little regard for my own personal sanity, I went ahead and signed up online.
The process was easy. Enter your name, a screenname and password, and you’re ready to join the high-flying world of Twitterdom. You can then search for people’s names and sign on to hear everything they’re doing.
And, really. I mean, everything.
Without getting into personal attacks on celebrities, I can characterize the famous-person angle as empty. You might get a message that so-and-so is on his way to New York. Or whatshername is getting ready to buy shoes. Or whatchamacallit is so happy that her kitchen is being painted.
I wondered if people really got excited about receiving these mind-numbing messages throughout the day, and I remembered that the celebrity angle is only a small part of Twitter’s usefulness. It is, in reality, a way for people to keep in touch with each other in a world that is increasingly spinning faster and faster — allowing us less precious time to really keep in contact with each other.
I thought about how this might be a good deal for a Little League baseball coach. One quick message to his Twitter crowd, and the team knows that practice was canceled. Teachers could update students at a moment’s notice, and schools could, in theory, reach out to students with important updates in a flash.
As strictly a social networking device, I can see the charm.
However, that led me to wonder what would happen if I started Tweeting my own personal updates to people.
• “Hey peeps. Just woke up and realized breath stinks to heaven. Probably going to brush my teeth. Will update ASAP.”
• “Whew, that’s better. Breath doesn’t smell like monkeys who fell in a sewage drain. Might take a shower.”
• “Hey peeps. Took a shower. Used the big blue towel. Yup, life is good.”
Had enough yet?
I know. That’s probably overstating it, but not by much. Perhaps the angle would be for me to Tweet from work, so people can see exactly what it is I do all day in here.
• “Just got into work. Still tired, but coffee should help. Bob and Jaime are working on ads, kind of. Last I saw, Jaime was bullying Bob around.”
• “Bob had enough of Jaime’s bullying. He’s crying under his desk now. I blew coffee out my nose I was laughing so hard at him, and he threw his man-purse at me.”
• “Hey peeps. Going through the 1,672 e-mails I received since I left the office last night. Lots of offers for free Viagra. Getting a complex.”
• “Just got into an argument with Susan. I think I was wrong, but I’m not going down that easy. I kind of like how red her face gets when I poke the bear. It’s a pretty shade.”
Yeah, that won’t work, either. Perhaps it would be more interesting if I just Tweeted from poker games...
“Marking my time to make my move. So-and-so keeps laying down hands. I’m going to push him around soon.”
“He came into the hand. I’m holding 7-2, and think I can push him right out with a big bet. Here goes.”
“What’s he thinking about? He should have folded! Dear God, please make him fold.”
“Please, please fold. PLEASE.”
“He raised. He stinking raised. I hate poker. And I hate him even more.”
Yikes. I have to stop this column now and Tweet something to my peeps.
“Jaime just gave Bob an atomic wedgie. Does anybody have a Kleenex? I, um, spilled coffee again.”