Is There a Difference Between FaceBookers & Twitterers?
Within the last few weeks my wife has become… well, “obsessed” is a strong word, so I’ll say fascinated with FaceBook. She was surprised to learn that I had created a FaceBook profile over a year ago and that I had not found the same level of intrigue as she has with this new social tool. A year ago, I was hearing a lot about it through podcasts and blogposts, so I created an account, but after adding a handful of friends, I really put it aside for other priorities. Shortly thereafter Twitter came along and with that I was hooked.
Last night she mentioned that she now had 40 FaceBook friends. I commented that I would rather to talk to 600 people I didn’t know on Twitter than the six people I actually do know on FaceBook. She said that was weird and I agree. I don’t think I can explain it intelligently, but I think it has something to do with anonymity. When we ran our online radio station for nearly 18 months, everyone we knew was aware of it. A handful even listened! But with the attention of our friends and family focused here, on 80sAirwaves.com, I became restricted in what I could talk about. When we decided to shut the radio station down, a lot of that was because we were so heavily focused on relocating and finding new jobs. But that isn’t something that you want your boss or your bosses wife to read about while you still have a job. Today, I would like to poke fun at the homogeneity of Wisconsin, but I don’t because we still have a lot of friends and family there. Who will probably stay there for a long time… so I won’t… for now.
Beyond the concept of anonymity, I just don’t get FaceBook. On the rare occasion when I do log-in to my FaceBook account, people have requests for me to deal with. Decisions I need to make about who I consider a friend and who I don’t. People throwing snowballs at me, giving me Muppets, buying me virtual drinks and asking me to take quizzes on what celebrity I might be reincarnated as. What the hell? Sounds like a singles bar stuck virtually somewhere between Naked Lunch and Fear and Loathing. Twitter is simpler. You can choose to follow me or not. I can choose the same. When I find your Tweet stream to be boring, insulting, stupid or if the songs you Blip via Twitter suck, I can choose to not follow you with two clicks. Simple. And please, please, please – do not use animated icons to represent yourself on Twitter. We do not need another frickin’ MySpace people! In an attempt to maintain some FaceBook credibility, I did install the app that basically rebroadcasts my TwitStream. I’ll check back in a few months to see if it’s still working.
On another social website, I have a network of over 80 professionals and executives who I know and associate with. Yet, earlier this year, I turned off my link to this website from that profile. Again, I do not feel it necessary for me to have every facet or every online personae of me connected. In many ways I see it as a danger to my privacy and my ability to write openly here. Adding one single friend or current employer can dramatically change the dynamics and tip the scales in terms of what can be said, or what should be said. Keeping audiences separated also allows for different types of communications. While the executives I know might be interested in my project developing a business opportunity podcast, most people here or on Twitter probably wouldn’t care so much. People subscribe to my 80sAirwaves Twitter feed because they want to be reminded about music or movies or TV shows that they might have otherwise forgotten about. It’s friendly, enjoyable and simple entertainment, from one stranger to another.
-pjc
PS: I know these posts have been “On the Dark Side” for sometime. I’ll try to be sunnier. I know people sometimes come here seeking their trip down 80’s memory lane in order to find a bit of happiness and reminisce about better times. I’ll work harder to provide that here, as I do with my Twitter stream. And in the spirit of that commitment, I wish you and yours, Happy Fucking Holidays!