Oh, crud.
News reports Friday said Google Plus, the Web-giant’s answer to Facebook, added 10 million users in two, limited weeks of operation, making it increasingly likely that those of us who try to stay current with social media will have One More Darn Thing To Do Every Day.
Keep up with what’s going on in your “stream” and in your “circles.” Add that to monitoring your Facebook wall and messages, your Twitter feeds and, of course, your email, voice mail and texts and IMs. And in my case there’s the so-last-century task of keeping tabs on multiple comment threads at the Change of Subject blog at chicagotribune.com/zorn.
Opt out, you say? Make like Thoreau and repair, metaphorically, to an unwired cabin by the tranquil pond of digital solitude?
Not an option.
First, I enjoy social media. I find it educational, entertaining, diverting and broadening. Those who grouse that it’s simply networks of people sharing photos of their cats, flogging their businesses and disclosing their snack choices clearly haven’t spent much, if any, time exploring what Facebook, Twitter and so on have to offer.
Second, I feel obligated to participate in social media. Not just as a journalist, but as a person who wants to remain current with culture and technology; who doesn’t want to become one of those cranky observers who greets every new offering with a wheezy “Who needs it?”
So I’m reduced to hoping that these new services fail even as I pre-emptively sign up for them. Fail or at least displace a somewhat similar service — the way Facebook displaced MySpace.
If Google Plus displaces Facebook by replicating all that Facebook does right and avoiding most of its problems — could Facebook’s messaging function be any more cumbersome? — then I’ll gladly convert.
And if it becomes just another irrelevant startup, like the ill-fated, spectacularly annoying Google Buzz offering launched early last year, then I’ll filter and ignore it totally out of my life.
But my fear, tweaked to anxiety level by the news of 10 million early adopters even before invitations to join are readily available, is that it will come to occupy a significant niche between the accessible yet telegraphic Twitter and the robust yet sclerotic Facebook. And that soon, those who’ve not joined up and created numerous internal social circles and participated in “hangouts” and “sparks” will be regarded with concern bordering on contempt: “Come on! Even the Amish are on Google Plus!”
If these were all passive services, then they’d just be part of the info-glut that gives us scores of publications, hundreds of TV channels and thousands of worthwhile websites and books that compete for our attention. But their presumption of interactivity — the “social” part of social media — can make them feel burdensome.
I’m already making enemies by responding slowly if at all to notes sent to me through Facebook and Twitter and by refusing every single invitation to join people’s networks on LinkedIn. Google Plus looks like an opportunity to disappoint still more people and add a little extra guilt to my day.
Crud.
Money requests sound like java jive
If I had a cup of coffee for every time someone said that the money they want — a donation, a price increase — compares favorably to the price of a cup of coffee, I would probably never sleep again.
One example from last week came from Netflix spokesman Steve Swasey. He was put on the hot seat by reporters after the video rental company announced that those who now pay $9.99 a month to get the company’s video streaming service as well as DVDs by mail, will be asked to pay $15.98 a month come September.
A whopping 60 percent increase to critics; the cost of “a latte or two” a month to Swasey.
“It was a silly thing to say,” Swasey allowed Thursday when I was interviewing him for Friday’s column on issues related to the price hike . “I don’t even drink coffee, much less lattes. I was just trying to make a comparison and find another way to say, ‘Hey, it’s just $6.’ But the latte thing took on a life of its own online.”
Those promoting local radio legend Steve Dahl made similar hot-beverage comparisons after Monday’s announcement that his formerly free weekday podcast will convert to a subscription model next month. The asking price of roughly 50 cents a show — $9.99 a month — was far less, they observed, than what most people gladly fork over to their friendly baristas.
As a caffeine addict I object to the trivialization of an essential beverage, and as someone with a few remaining math skills I observe that the amounts in question add up to $72 and $120 a year — the price of a good home coffee maker.
And this kind of ciphering usually makes me feel flinty, not generous. When I start multiplying amounts instead of dividing them, I realize the obscene annual amounts my family doles out for phone and cable service, for instance, and I start thinking about going to McDonald’s instead of Starbucks when I need a dose of joe.
That said, I hope Dahl succeeds in luring enough listeners over the pay wall to make his venture a success. I’m a big fan of and believer in podcasting — audio programs downloadable from the Internet — as an exciting medium, and Dahl is one of the few personalities in a position even to try to move local podcasting from quirky hobby up to self-sustaining business.
The few podcasts I know of that charge access fees are weekly programs with national or even international appeal. The vast majority try to get by on advertiser support, public-radio style fundraising appeals (that frequently reference coffee prices) or some combination thereof.
If Dahl can pave the way and make a living chattering online the way he chattered for years on Chicago radio stations, other local talents might be able to follow and usher in an exciting new era of audio creativity.
If not, well, at least he will have tried.
Collinsville delivers a belt to teen fashion
The City Council in downstate Collinsville last week OK’d an ordinance banning low-riding pants. The ordinance forbids pants that sag more than 3 to 4 inches below the waistline of the underwear. A first offense is punishable with a $100 fine; a second offense would carry a $300 fine plus 40 hours of community service.
