A Networked Society

Recently I have joined the ranks of the Facebook friendly. This is a big deal. Maybe not to you, but it is monumental for me. It is one of the things that I made the mistake of saying "never" about. I truly was never going to Facebook.

My 180• turn on this issue has me in contemplative mood. I have been delving deeper into what motivates myself and others to use this and other social networking sites.

I know why I initially joined Facebook. Ostensibly it was to give myself access in order to start a page for work. My Cafe Today location could use a little more exposure, and I volunteered my time to make that happen. So, joining was easy. Then I started "friending" people.

Make "friends" on Facebook is easy too. The act of clicking on the "send friend request" button takes no time at all. The thing is, I quickly realized that there was more to it than that. My mind tells me that linking my personal information with another person through a public website is simply one more exchange of 1's and 0's that we see all around us everyday. For some strange reason, however, actively seeking out people that I know was more impacting than I anticipated. For most of my "new friends" we never even exchanged words, and yet during the process I continued to hear the old AT&T tag-line "Reach out and touch someone" in my head. I could feel myself reconnecting emotionally with memories I had of these people, some of whom I haven't talked to in years.

It occurred to me that this was a big part of it. Notice what I just said at the end of the last paragraph. I was connecting to the memories that I had, not the people themselves. Connecting to friends was a nostalgic walk down memory lane. I have been very busy lately, and it felt good to stop down and reconnect ( even if only nominally), to people that I have known in my life. A rare reason to slow down and reminisce.

Today I was reading Burton Farley's travel blog which I found through a link that he posted on Facebook. Things like this make me realize that, going forward I believe Facebook could be a valuable tool for someone like me. I look on this, sort of distant fellowship with others, with blissful ignorance today. Skeptics might say that it could rob me of my motivation for real human interaction with these people, but before I simply had no contact. I did not know Burt and Christine were even in Norway, for example. So, as of now, I will soak up the experience and hope that I will have more common ground with my "friends" the next time we chance to meet in person.



- Posted from my iPhone

Spare the Change

The other day I came across a random Mexican coin that came back with us from one of our trips. It crossed my mind to throw it away like so many unwanted trinkets, but I resisted the urge. I'm not sure why.

The fact is, I found that I have a psychological aversion to junking currency. It isn't just Mexican coins that I have spared from a dark demise. I have found myself shuffling around others such as a Franc, and various Canadian coins at different times. Even the American Penny has extremely little actual worth, but I don't pitch them either.

It isn't my desire to become a coin collector. I usually just end up place them here and there until they get lost anyway. No, it is something else.

As a child it was not uncommon for me to witness my parents scrounging up spare change to find a way to pay for gas or a gallon of milk. I certainly have found myself doing a lot of the same in my adult life. One theory I have, is that being broke simply teaches you the value of small change. Only, that doesn't explain why I would save a single French "penny". You can't exchange that small of an amount of money, and I have no plans to travel internationally in the near future.

Another theory is that it feels disrespectful to throw away money in particular. Like making a snap judgement on the economies of the countries who back these coins. Declaring that these coins will forever remain valued at next to nothing. However, this theory seems far-fetched (even for a lighthearted blog article).

The other possibility is that I recognize the intrinsic value of a metal coin. On some level the ore mined and processed to make these coins has value no matter what border you cross. This too, is a thin argument. I don't have a forge for melting down metal. I also don't know of a metal recycling place where you can turn in a quarter of an ounce at a time.

My final theory is that i am simply exercising my packrat instincts. I tend to save things. (Somewhere Diana is nodding her head emphaticlly in agreement) I am working on it, but the reasons people store things are many and it is a particularly difficult habit to kick.

I suppose the real reason for my actions is a kaleidoscope view of many of the things miss-mashed together. We are complicated beings.

- Posted from my iPhone