Everyman

There was a point in the history of Western culture in which it was fashionable for everyone to keep a journal. In our new age of social networking, journaling is, of course, more popular than ever...its just that we want everyone else to see our thoughts, instead of keeping them private. We invite their comments. We want their opinions. We want to challenge their opinions. Thus, nearly everyone I know posts status updates somewhere. They share links to the things that interest them. Whether in the compact form of Twitter, the more creative palette of Tumblr, or the long-form written expression of a blog, we're all about letting everyone else see our thoughts.

Blogging, of course, has brought about its own debates in the cultural sphere. Specifically, we wonder, are the blogs of anyone who witnesses a specific event and decides to publish the details as they witnessed them to be considered journalism? Most bloggers are not trained journalists, and neither are most social networkers...yet its not an exaggeration to say that we learn news from Twitter more quickly than any formal news media outlet. And, news media outlets are making it much easier to post eye-witness video and accounts to their websites.

Of course, this doesn't necessarily include the so-called "elites." No direct eye-witness accounts or opinions of Joe Public in the pages of the New Yorker, for example, or the bylines of the Washington Post. Some publications and media hold to a higher standard. They want to be gate-keepers, filtering what goes through their sites to their readers and viewers. Societies have always, and likely will always, have these elites.

Yet, our information age has brought about a new distaste for the elites in favor of the common person. Not only is it easier to find out what someone just like us thinks about a situation, but it is also possible for any of us to publish our own books, record and produce our own albums, shoot our own films, and then to circulate them to a worldwide audience. Albeit a small worldwide audience at first, but...you never know what will go viral tomorrow.

Interesting, isn't it, how this invention of the Internet has brought about a lack of tolerance for the elite gatekeepers? We are no longer as interested in what the publishing houses and record labels think is worthy music. We want to hear the album made by the guy on the other end of town that just posted his first music video on YouTube, or read the novel self-published by the author we've connected with on Twitter.

Yet, we still respect the elite in most areas. When push comes to shove, we trust a news report from the New York Times over a more amateur news blog. We value a degree from an Ivy League institution over an online school. We respect great literature over a print-on-demand novel. There's value to the excellence brought about by people who have a reputation for doing it the best, yet there's value to the fact that anyone can do it.

So, where's the reconciliation of this conundrum? I respect novels published with well-known publishers. I respect authors who self-publish, and, in fact, intend to self-publish some of my own work in the near future. That's where it hits home for me. Writing, musicianship, acting, film directing, are all difficult crafts that require much work to achieve any level of competency or excellence. Yet, all of these gifts can fall by the wayside, regardless of their level of excellence, because of business decisions based on executive profit or the lowest common denominator of the audience instead of the quality of the art.

Do you read self-published books? Watch independent films? Listen to indie bands? The technology is there for these artists to do excellent work, and the information pipeline is there for them to distribute it as they please, without working in connection with agents or executives. This is an exciting time to be creative. Ironically, I wonder if the so-called "entertainment industry" will implode, or at least be forced to alter drastically, as a result?

And, I wonder if it would be such a bad thing if it did?

Photo Attribution: goXunReviews

Bits and Bytes

Somewhere in the middle of a hectic Monday morning, Karen sent one of those email forwards that are meant to brighten your day. The email was (supposedly) written by an older gentleman who had operated a business for years while content to keep his mobile phone in his golf bag in the garage, who became annoyed with a GPS telling him what to do, and who certainly didn't comprehend Twitter. It concluded with an emphatic statement that many older people are content with what they still consider to be the advanced technology of cordless telephones and garage door openers, and that those younger and more technologically adept should accept this and move on.

It was a good laugh.

I remember the jokes that used to circulate about how friends and family had difficulty programming their VCRs. I remember thinking that it wasn't that complicated. I listen to Karen periodically muse to her friends that she can't keep up with which social network is my current favorite, because I have too many. I pounce on the latest updates on my iPhone, and she shrugs her shoulders and contents herself with what she needs to know. I listen to myself with amusement as I lapse into geek-speak when one of my friends has a technical issue, to which I typically know a solution.

My parents, however, don't understand the concept of Facebook.

It occurs to me that my generation has, arguably, seen the greatest number of life-altering technological advances of any in human history. Actually, let me qualify that: we've seen the greatest number of information-based technological advancements of any in human history. I can trace back with wonder the changes in the way I live my day-to-day life through my 30-ish years on the planet. When I was an undergrad, having a computer in your dorm room was unusual. Most of us walked down to the computer lounge that was in the wing of our dorm, plugged a 3 1/2" floppy into the drive, and hacked away at our term papers with software that was either nameless or whose name escapes my memory. And we were glad we no longer had to do it on typewriters while slinging whiteout.

By the time I was a junior, I had a pager. My grandmother used to try to leave messages on that number like an answering machine, and couldn't understand why it didn't go through. Then I had a huge bag-phone in my car with an antennae mounted on the back glass and was feeling pretty spiffy about 60 free minutes...you get the idea.

Now, my phone literally can manage my entire day. I've heard that the average iPhone, in fact, has more processing power that the computers used to generate the special effects for the original Star Wars films.

While I joke with my friends and family about what I perceive as their technological ineptitude, however, I feel concerned for those older than us. I feel concerned because I wonder if there has ever been a time in our history in which our elders have been left behind so quickly...disregarded as though they have no idea about life. I wonder if, in our quasi-arrogant self-assurance of possessing and being intimate with technology that our parents could never have imagined, that we de-value the wisdom about life that our parents and grandparents have.

After fussing with email and weather forecasts and so forth on my iPad Monday morning, I settled into the beginning of the week by looking at my daughter. I watched her sleeping face, and thought about how wonderfully superior a creation she is to any metal and glass device that I hold in my hand. I think about how the wisdom of those who have gone before us is invaluable to how we raise and treat those who come after us. I think about how the core of the human condition hasn't changed, and about how we endanger ourselves of repeating the mistakes of history because we are so obsessed with our present.

I think about all of the times that I couldn't be bothered with my elders, and how I've lived to regret that choice every time. Every. Single. Time.

Progress is a beautiful thing, when taken as a next step to our humanity, our arts, our culture. Should we attempt to replace those things...to replace our history...with the progress of today and dreams of tomorrow, though...then we've torn away parts of our souls. We need to be careful in discarding those pieces of ourselves so flippantly, because I'm not entirely certain that we can get them back when we do.

Should a day come when our technology is no longer with us, we will still be with each other. Humanity can't be fixed with software upgrades and new apps. Its much deeper in its problems and its beauty.

We need to know what to do with that.

Photo Attribution: brendahallowes 

Tragic Flaws

Do you remember Hamlet's tragic flaw? He considered everything for so long that he no longer had a concept of right or wrong, and was unable to take action on his thoughts. That is, he thought too much, and didn't act. Sometimes, I feel very Hamlet-like. Not that I'm plotting revenge for a family wrong...no, nothing quite so melodramatic in my life. Just that I have these great ideas, and then I think about them until they're almost completely fleshed out, and then I don't do anything about them.

For example, three years or so ago, I met a visual artist who said he was interested in illustrating a YA fantasy novel, but needed a writer. We had coffee, we brainstormed. He showed me some storyboards of ideas, I wrote the rough drafts of a few chapters. But, YA really isn't my genre, so I told myself, and my schedule was incredibly busy. Ultimately, we stopped meeting and conversing about the project, and I shelved the chapters I had written as a "dead project," relegated to the recesses of my hard drive. Eventually, I lost contact with the artist.

Now, I sort of wish that I had pursued the project. Perhaps I could have pulled it off, after all. One never knows.

That happens frequently with writing projects. I have random ideas that I store somewhere in my brain, or that I type out in order to remember. Some are deleted after being re-visited a few months later, and others are kept. And I think about them. And I think about them. And I think about them some more. Very infrequently, however, do I sit down and do any writing. Thus, I'm typically juggling two or three projects when many more show potential.

So, I'm resolved to make the space for more side projects, this year. In addition to the two works-in-progress I'm actively writing and editing, I've started one such side project, a non-fiction collection of thoughts that may or may not become anything, but that I'm going to write, in any case. I'm also going to take a shot at a children's book for which I had an idea a little over a year ago, but that I never touched, because children's literature really isn't my genre. Still, I'm going to see how it turns out.

I need to move forward in other areas of life, as well...opportunities that present themselves that I don't immediately jump on because I spend too much time thinking and not enough time engaging. I'm just getting around to actively pursuing an opportunity that arose nearly two years ago, now...one that I put off for far too long until we eventually had a baby, causing the potential to be pushed even further down the line.

Karen balances me, well, in that she likes to have all of the details before moving on an idea. I have the impulse to just move, but then become completely stagnate if I pause to consider all of the details. I think there has to be a balance, an in-between ground of approaching something wisely while still moving expeditiously. So, striking that balance is a goal for my new year.

The worst-case scenario is that I'll be talking next year about all of those wild ideas that we tried, instead of thinking about what I wish we had already done.

Photo Attribution: Brian Hillegas

Code of Ethics

The first I heard of the Costa Concordia cruise ship partially sinking off the coast of Italy was when I stumbled onto some very striking photos on Tumblr. The images of this mammoth ship listing on its side seemed surreal at first, and certainly brought to mind recollections of the Titanic. As the number of missing has grown each time I check my news feeds, it seems, I also noticed that, among the charges pending against the captain of the ship are abandoning his vessel while passengers were still aboard.



This, of course, makes me think of the "captain going down with his ship" concept that we've heard in stories for a long time. Of course, there's no law indicating that a captain has to sink and lose his or her life if their vessel goes under, at least not that I'm aware of, or that I can imagine. I was unaware that it is illegal for a captain to abandon his or her passengers, however, but I find it interesting and appropriate that there is a legal code for this.

This sparked a discussion with Karen and I about legal codes versus ethical codes. Perhaps, I thought, the "captain goes down with his ship" is more of an old ethical code than anything else...an understanding of dedication to the duty that is included with your vocation or lifestyle. This isn't something along the lines of a police officer encountering a crime when off-duty, as a peace officer is a sworn public servant, and typically must intervene anyway. This is more along the lines of a physician following his or her sworn oath to the healing arts if, for example, driving onto the scene of an accident and choosing to render aid to the victims. When one chooses to be a physician, one recognizes that they are undertaking the burden of this ethical code. Different vocations and professions have different ethical codes, something by which those entering the profession agree to be bound. Health care and educational professionals, for example, are mandated reporters in almost every state in the U.S., and this requirement often doesn't stop within the bounds of their professional practice.

So, the idea of a captain allegedly abandoning their vessel while imperiled passengers and crew were still aboard strikes me as a particularly dishonorable action. While there are many so-called good Samaritans in the world who will voluntarily place themselves at risk to help those in danger, there are those who voluntarily undertake the ethical, if not legal, obligation to do so under certain circumstances. Failure to uphold that ethical responsibility is a personal failure of the highest calibre.

Perhaps the issue is that we are not placed in situations requiring us to uphold these ethical codes that frequently? Perhaps its easy to say that we would place ourselves in harm's way to help someone in need, but the situation looks quite differently if we actually find ourselves in that situation. Perhaps a fight, flight, or freeze response can overtake even the strongest of us in the right circumstances, forcing a response contrary to what we know we should do. Its interesting, however, to think that we might choose and make a commitment to a profession in which such an ethical (or legal) code were required of us, and then fail to keep it at a critical moment. I guess that failure sort of makes the rest of us feel betrayed.

Perhaps we should show more grace to each other, recognizing that everyone make serious errors?

I'm interested to see if this captain's actions prove intentionally avoidant, or simply fearfully negligent. I'm also interested to see what consequences are enforced as an outcome.

Simplistic Interlude

I like simple, streamlined, and uncomplicated lately. I'm particularly attracted to things that work smoothly. Minimalist is a word that comes to mind.

I think that appreciating minimalism brings about these moments of clarity because you become more focused on the basic. You take these interludes that orient you to these really huge moments in life that we experience every day but that would normally fly by us because we would be so intense with the business, with the complex.

While Karen was away teaching her night class at the end of the week, I was home with our daughter, who had spent most of her day much, much fussier than usual. The night was complicated, as only a night with a crying baby and a new dad attempting to decipher what's wrong with said crying baby in order to fix it, can be. When all was said and done, though, and she had finally quieted down and become content, I looked down at her while I was rocking her to sleep and she was looking up at me, making eye contact in a way that communicated that she completely trusted me to take care of her, to place her welfare before my own, to not let her down.

That was a such a simple moment. And it was a moment of earth-shattering clarity. The sort of moment that you don't walk away from the same as before you experienced it.

I'm so glad that I was paying attention.

I hope your weekend is full of enough pauses to appreciate the moments that you'll experience.

Socialite

Its no secret that I've been accused of being an early adopter...its actually something in which I sort of pride myself. I see it as being a sort of risk-taker...you never know if that great new device or service is really going to prove itself worthy of what you just paid for it.

With social media, however, there's a little less of a risk. I've been an early adopter, there, as well...while I joined the blogosphere somewhat late (I started this space in 2005, and it has evolved with me into something very different since then), I set up a Facebook profile when Facebook was new and all the rage (remember back when you had to be enrolled in an academic institution to set up an account?). Since then, I've jumped on some social media, and avoided others (Foursquare? No thanks.). I use social media for which I can realistically see a use or benefit, and sometimes begrudgingly hold onto social media profiles only because I can still see a benefit.

A few months ago, a blogger I follow regularly posted a list of the social media sites that he uses regularly, and asked his readers to comment with theirs. I did, and I was amazed at how many social media sites I use. Certainly, social media has changed our world, altered the ways in which we interact with each other forever, and guided us to new people with whom we can interact. My commenting on his post drove that fact home to me, and I thought it would be interesting for you, as well. So, just for fun and a break from my usual blogging fare, I thought I'd do something similar. Here are the social media sites I use, and how (or why) I use them.

Facebook. I have a personal Facebook profile, and I keep it locked down pretty tightly. This blog, of course, also has a Facebook page. Personally, I'm over Facebook. As its privacy thresh hold becomes lower, and as it leaves its niche to attempt to do everything (first it attempted to copy Twitter with streams of status updates, now it offers video chat...really??), I find myself posting to Facebook very sparingly, and use my personal account only because it is the easiest way in which to contact several of my friends (and, perhaps for sentimental reasons, as well).

Twitter. I love Twitter. I love the people I meet there from various backgrounds and disciplines, I love the real-time nature of it, I love the casual conversations that are sparked there. I love the interesting links that I discover that I otherwise wouldn't, and the absolutely hysterical humor that can brighten my day. If all you ever do is tweet about the meetings you go to or how when you're talking on your iPhone, I won't follow you. Give me a stream full of interesting links or quips, and my attention is yours.

Tumblr is a recent venue for me, but I've already met fascinating people. I love the simplicity of Tumblr, how its not about how many people you follow, and how it is full of great art, beautiful images, and thought-provoking quotes. Tumblr receives far more of my time than Facebook, and I've turned it into sort of a collection of the things that inspire me to write, both here and elsewhere.

Google+ is the site that I truly wish would replace Facebook, and is perfectly capable of doing so. Because my blogging activities are tied into my Google profile, this one is important to me. However, while I'm connected to a relatively large number of family and friends there, not many of them use Google+ regularly, so my activity there is unfortunately limited until everyone recognizes how superior it is to Facebook. Of course, I have a YouTube account associated with this, but use it rarely. I aggregate my RSS feeds with Google Reader, and share interesting posts occasionally that way, as well.

LinkedIn is valuable for keeping in touch with present and former colleagues. I'm careful about my connections there, and its one of those sites I have a feeling will become much more useful in the future, so I'm keeping it around.

Goodreads is where I keep track of my voracious reading appetite, and chat about good books with good friends. I've began to connect more and more with other writers that I've met on Twitter, there, and I'll eventually set up an author page...I just haven't gotten around to that, yet (once I finish the work-in-progress, I think).

Delicious was a network I joined several years ago. Its one of those profiles that you forget you have until there's a link to a site that you really need to store somewhere for future reference, and keep it with other similar links, and then suddenly Delicious is the most valuable profile you have. I don't use the social aspect of Delicious as much...its a repository for my bookmarks.

Instapaper is something I don't know how I survived without. Its simply a place to put all of those stories and articles and posts that you know you want to read, but just don't have time to read at the moment you find them. Instapaper is amazing!      

Of course, other sites have come and gone, but this is quite enough to manage, don't you think? When I consider how integral these sites have become to my daily routine, I'm quite amazed.

What social media do you use on a regular basis? How has it impacted your life, for better or worse?

Photo Attribution: ivanpw

Baby Talk

Several years ago, I remember a colleague bringing her young baby to the office where we shared a day job. I was busy at the time...you know, the young professional trying to make himself valuable (this was prior to the onset of my more curmudgeonly nature), and popped into the office of the other co-worker to whom she was showing her baby to ask that person a quick question about routing some paperwork or something like that. They joked with me that every female in the room had instantly zeroed in on the new baby, but that I had hardly noticed.

Fast forward several years. I was sitting in a green room backstage a few weekends ago and talking to a couple who were waiting for one of the musicians that had been onstage to finish packing up his equipment to leave. I ended up in a conversation in which we compared reasons and stories for our favorite brands of cloth diapers. Yet, I felt no need to surrender my man-card.

Its amazing, isn't it, how children so easily break down cultural barriers? Last night at an Epiphany service and Twelfth Night concert, our daughter became a bit fussy. Yet no one minded. We received smiles from across the congregation, and comments on how well-behaved a child she is. All sorts of people from all different ages approached us conversationally. I ended up making some unexpected connections in the local arts and academic communities because of discussion about children sleeping through the night.

When we read about situations in which children are in danger, adults almost invariably rush into dangerous situations to save children...situations in which there may be hesitation to save other adults, or a motivation to wait for professional rescuers to arrive. Even the most tax-averse of conservative politicians have difficulty justifying reducing funds that help children in the community. And, even among the most hardened of criminals who are incarcerated for unspeakable acts, child abuse is viewed as a most heinous of crimes, and child abusers introduced into their populations...well, we've all heard about how that goes.

Children seem to have this universal way of breaching these false barriers that we put up around ourselves, these invisible but inviolable walls by which we isolate ourselves from others according to cultural status, income level, or (God help us) ethnicity.  The innocence of a child is an instant conversation starter with those whom we may not have otherwise had conversation. They are instant motivators to justice and protection among those who might not otherwise be as motivated.

In a crowded airport shuttle in November, a seat was immediately surrendered for my wife to have a place to sit with our daughter.

I also wonder why we don't see other adults this way? Do we see ourselves as now tainted, somehow? As being part of the rest of the cynical world? Do we mourn this, and want to postpone that perspective reaching an innocent child for as long as possible? Or is it as simple as the fact that we become overwhelmed by the "cute factor?"

I'm amazed at how children bring us so easily together, in any case.