Happy Halloween

Boo!

Photo via Trashmenagerie

Facebook is the new AOL, revisited

I recently reconnected with some long lost friends via Facebook…I know, who hasn’t. In my case it is with people whom I have not had contact with for 30 years, so it is kinda “big.” This kind of happening was very reinforcing and soon I found myself searching for more old friends and acquaintances. But throughout the process there was something very familiar about the sensation I was feeling, it was a déjà vu feeling, a sense that I had done this all before. But I simply could not get my brain around it.

So, today I was reading a blog article about the changing trends in peoples' use of various web technologies. They note how the landscape has changed dramatically in the last few years and speculate on where we are heading (I will blog about this separately as I am very interested in the topic). So, I was reading the article and then it hit me. AOL…Facebook FEELS like AOL.

A short time later I Googled the words “Facebook” and “AOL” and lo and behold, I was not having an original idea - Yeah, so what else is new? Not only have others noted this, but some of them saw the similarities over TWO years ago, around the time Facebook first “hit the streets.”

Scott Heiferman on his blog in June of 2007 entitled “Facebook is the new AOL” notes the similarity of the two systems separated by thirteen years of time (1994-2007) and how they both appeal to people who “live in their walled gardens.” He writes:

Fast forward to Facebook 2007 and see similarities: If you want access to their big base of users, develop something in their proprietary language for their people who live in their walled garden. Strangely, many young facebookizens aren't very net savvy (facebook *is* their internet) & they have little desire to go beyond the walled garden -- just like the old AOL users. There's even a proprietary Facebook messaging system (kids don't use much open internet email).

Heiferman’s comments were echoed by Jason Kotte who adds:

Eventually, someone will come along and turn Facebook inside-out, so that instead of custom applications running on a platform in a walled garden, applications run on the internet, out in the open, and people can tie their social network into it if they want, with privacy controls, access levels, and alter-egos galore.

I think Kotte was partially wrong in his appraisal. If any thing, the walled garden has gotten larger and many folks - even me - seem to gravitate to the safety of “being among friends.”

Another blogger in August of 2007 laments the phenomena. Danny Sullivan in “Grokking Facebook: AOL 2.0” writes:

So as I go through the applications, a light bulb (compact fluorescent) finally kicks in about Facebook. It’s AOL. Shit — it’s AOL. How on earth did all these people wind up back in AOL only a year after AOL gave up on the walled garden? Maybe they’re too young. Maybe they don’t remember. I remember some Diggers once heckling me to go back to AOL. Made me laugh because they’d probably never been on it…

BTW, Danny made up the cute mashup image you seen on this blog. Delightful.

Danny too incorrectly predicts Facebook will be short lived. So what exactly is this phenomenon? Why is Facebook popular and growing in popularity? Or is it?

My own assessment is based exclusively on a very small sample – the 47 people who have the pleasure of being “my friends” on Facebook. They seem to fall into a predictable pattern. Of the nearly fifty folks, and this does not include the 3-4 organizations that I “follow,” less than half are what I would call “active” on Facebook. The vast majority chime-in very infrequently and some, not all, are completely mum. Because it is Facebook, I have no way of knowing if any of these “infrequent friends” even login and read my occasional rants. But, I suspect that although Facebook may be lauding over their claims to have had the largest growth of all of the social networking sites in the past two years, the vast majority of the members of Facebook rarely ever login to the service and even fewer write comments, updates and engage others. BTW, I recently went through my “follows” list in Twitter and discovered a very large number of people on my list had not tweeted in over 100 days. Yet, I suspect Twitter is still counting them as “members.” Perhaps someone can do that research.

What has been perhaps most interesting in this activity is reading all of the scathing predictions of the demise of Facebook and the whining as to why anyone would want to live inside the "walled garden of Facebook." It should be noted that all of these commentaries (the ones above and more listed below) are written by what appears to be professional writers on their own blogs. Only one respectfully made the disclosure that he too was “on Facebook” and could not deny the power of that very large audience.

I am curious about where it is all going and if ultimately the predictions made by these folks two years ago will come to fruition. Will Facebook end up in the digital discard pile along with AOL, Prodigy and CompuServe?

Time will tell.

Nods to:

Scott Rosenberg’s Wordyard

Jeff Jarvis

Jeff Pulver

Dave McClure

Roger Kondrat

Adam Singer

Alan Wolk

Joel at Socialized

My personal encounter with Soupy Sales

Just in case you hadn’t heard, Soupy died the other day at the age of 83. Not bad for a old pie-thrower.

If you read any of the obits or career history of Mr. Sales (nee Milton Supman), you know that he had a brief, two-year run (1964-1966) as the host of a daily children's after-school show on WNEW – Channel 5 in New York. According to Wikipedia, The Soupy Sales Show was nationally syndicated in the second year making Soupy a household name.

Sales’ shows implemented several memorable shticks including the frequent throwing of cream pies into the faces of famous people, and bizarre characters - many of whom were puppets - that he conversed with throughout the 30 minute show. To the 11-13 year old audience of which I was part, he was simply nuts. Adding to his “kid appeal” was the fact that he had become rather controversial and the watching of his show had to be a covert behavior for many kid fans. The “hey-kids-send-the- green-pieces-of-paper-with-the-pictures-of-guys-with-beards-to-Soupy” episode is perhaps most famous.

I'm guessing it was in about 1965 that we (my sisters, dad and I) had our ever so brief, but completely memorably run in with Mr. Sales.

My dad worked in an office located on the corner of E 69th St and Third Ave, in Manhattan. It was a Saturday, and Dad had to make a stop at the office for something. We had parked, visited the office and were on our return to the car as we walked along Third Ave. It was a bright, sunny, winter day around noon and the streets were crowded with pedestrians burdened with shopping paraphernalia heading to Gristedes, or to lunch at Mahews, or perhaps a trip down to Bloomingdales.

I was 12 in 1965 and definitely into “people watching,” when I suddenly spotted the very familiar face coming at us as we walked south on Third. It was Soupy Sales walking along wearing a black, full-length coat, his hands buried deep in his coat pockets. WNEW was located on E67th St, just off of Third, so it was Soupy's stomping ground.

I can’t remember if we made eye-contact, but there was that momentary-delay that always happens when you see a celebrity in the flesh. It caused me to stop dead in my tracks. Now, mind you, at 12, I was not very experienced meeting celebrities then, but I’ve had my fair share over the years. And each time it happens, I experience that stop-in-your-tracks feeling.

Anyway, Soupy passed us and I alerted my sisters, “That was Soupy Sales, that was Soupy Sales!”

I think the girls had both noticed him as well and now turned to face north, my eyes following Soupy as he almost disappeared into the New York backdrop. Spontaneously, I shouted, “Hey Soupy!” as loud as I could. My pronouncement did nothing to upset the hardened NY crowd, nary an eye moved from the throng.

My sisters and dad had now also stopped and turned to look back when Soupy suddenly broke step, spun around and with his hand still in his coat pockets spread his arms out, slightly squatted his knees, and shouted back in that characteristically silly voice some gibberish exaltation like “Be-lah” – his face grinning from ear to ear, his tongue sticking out.

Before we could react, and without missing a step, he suddenly spun back around, pulled his arms back and solemnly disappears into the din.

That was it. No pie in the face, no autograph. Just a “Be-lah” from Soupy Sales.

Rest in Peace, Soupy.

Everybody's so smart

Maybe it started with the repackaging of the customer service department by Apple. The "Genius Bar" in the back of each Apple retail store is where you pay for, pick up, or order your desired Apple product. It is also the place where consumers can ask questions and get their Apple computer fixed. Yeah, but you know that happens very rarely with Apple Computers....right.

Does buying an Apple Computer make you a genius? Or is my niece correct when she states that smart people tend to buy Macs?

I just received an e-mail advertisement from Adobe entitled: "Your Shortcut to Brilliant." Do I really need Adobe's overpriced software to make me brilliant? Or is this assuming that because I am so brilliant, I would only purchase a product from Adobe.

What is going on? What's this obsession all of a sudden with "smartness?"

We have the "smart phone" and the "Smart Board," the "Smart Car" and "Smart Money." And, let's not forget "SMART Goals." This really doesn't have anything to do with "smartness" it is actually just a mnemonic for "Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Relevant, Timely." But you already knew that, didn't you.

It's because you're smart.

Gluey the glue-worker's working!

Digital photo taken by User:Postdlf Licensed through Creative Commons

When I was a child in the 50s and 60s, we would often travel along Greenpoint Ave on our way from Clinton Hill to my grandmother's home in Sunnyside, Queens. This necessitated a trip over the Greenpoint Ave. Bridge which crosses Newtown Creek. There was a glue factory on the east side of the shore that appeared to be the primary source of the "fragrance" that was everpresent in that location. From the back seat of the car we kids would announce in unison, "Gluey the glue-worker's working!"

Now, I see someone has finally started to do something about "the stench.". According to the Gotham Gazette, Newtown Creek has been nominated to be listed on the controversial federal Superfund funded by the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency. According to the GG, "Newtown Creek is the site of the country’s largest coastal oil spill, dating back to the 1950s when the site was the home of a refinery operation by Standard Oil — Exxon Mobil’s predecessor."

No mention of Gluey...I think that if they go ahead with this plan they will find that there was a lot more than one oil spill and they will find a few dead horses at the bottom of that creek.

I also predict it will be another 50 years before the smell goes away.

See also NY Times article on the same topic - including a photo from the bridge by: Nicole Bengiveno/The New York Times

~jeb

Psychotic America

On this, the anniversary of one of the saddest days in American history, I am reflecting on the almost psychotic extremism being portrayed in the American political experience. I am basically frightened by some of the rhetoric that I am hearing from both sides, but particularly the extreme Right.

Here is an example that I just read in a "readers' comments" section on the Bangor Daily News website. See if it makes any sense to you:

Lori, the "socialist agenda" in Obama's speech, as proposed is not held within the speech itself. The concentrated concern of the problem issues came from the outside. The very fact of Obama's background, oratory style of saying nothing in a long speech, the frustrating manner in which he twists words and theories, and his everlasting manner of street-speaking, frustrates a lot of people. What a concern of these people who were adamant against having their child sit and be forced to listen to Obama the other day was simply just that! Because parents know how Obama is, Obama has proven himself to be something he once said he was, and is not, and they (parent's) were afraid of something being said in-topic which could have been detrimental; not known by young minds what Obama's intent or words would actually be, absorbed into their minds!

BTW, this is in response to a teacher who wrote a guest column about the lack of student responsibility. I chose these comments because I simply can make no sense out of what the person is saying. But it is clear they don't trust Mr. Obama and apparently fear he has some unique powers of persuasion that will somehow corrupt the minds of children. Wow.

The next reader's comment came from a woman who described herself as someone "recently retired from school teaching in Maine, after 25 frustrating years..."

In terms of Obama's speech, I was against it for several reasons: schools are suppose to be apolitical; early addresses by past Presidents were not beamed out to every student, due to lack of technology ,and teachers could decide whether they wanted to attend, but most schools did not have the TV's available; Obama has embedded messages in most of his speeches which might encourage indoctrination of students; Obama is everywhere pushing his message; Parents should be the people deciding whether students listen to him at a young age, perhaps high school students, but not K-6; some schools mandated viewing, which is truly socialist in nature.

Both of my grandchildren did not watch the Obama speech. They are Kindergarten students, and too young to understand. One child stayed home, as the speech was mandated in Broward County, Florida, and the other child did go to school, as the school "archived" the speech, stating it was not in their primary curriculum.

Excuse me, did you just say, "...Obama has embedded messages in most of his speeches which might encourage indoctrination of students..."

God help us.

~j

Image from Creative Commons

Perry's Nut House

A local news story this evening brought me back in time; a time of youth and innocence.

Well, maybe not a time of innocence...

It was in the summer of 1970 that I discovered one of the most unique establishments on the coast of Maine. According to their website, “Perry's Nut House has been referred to as a Maine Institution since 1927 when I.L. Perry first opened his doors to sell pecans and other assorted nuts.”

I was part of a motley crew of campers and counselors from a small boys’ camp in Friendship, Maine off for a day trip to Fort Knox where we had searched – in vain – for hidden treasures. Although I, and presumably the rest of my crew, knew full well that the massive edifice built at the mouth of the Penobscot River to protect the City of Bangor from British attack after the War of 1812 was not the place with all the gold, my fellow staff and I attempted to confuse the young lads by insisting that we search every inch of the fort including a trip down into the bowels of the site in search of the precious mineral.

In those days I was learning the art form of how to keep little boys busy, content and tired. Busy boys stay out of trouble and content boys would not write unflattering letters to parents. The "tired" part paid off for the staff when we could call lights out at 9:00 pm and have a few hours of rest and recovery from the “little darlings” before crashing ourselves.

There was only so much Fort Knox to go around that day and by 2:30 we had pretty much seen everything there was to see. The boat back to camp would not be ready until five o’clock so several hours still had to be occupied.

Leading the excursion was Old Man John, the feisty and coarse former camp director who recently had turned over the reigns of the camp to his 28 year old son and taken the role as chief sage and bus driver. But the Old Man still had quite few tricks up his sleeve for killing time; he could write a book. Wherever I traveled with that man in the years that followed he never ceased to amaze me by finding the most unique and “off the beaten track” places that would make any all American boy drool.

That year we were introduced to Perry’s Nut House. Located along busy US Route 1 just north of the port city of Belfast, Perry’s complex of brightly painted yellow building surrounded by a menagerie of strange and exotic “curiosities” can’t be missed. Seemingly from a time long ago, the Perry’s of 1970 sported a larger-than-life bear, elephant, and wooden Indian. And that was just on the outside of the building. Once inside, Perry’s was the kind a place every kid would love and contained the kind of stuff every camp counselor dreaded. That was probably why Old Man John made a lengthy speech warning campers and staff that no one was to buy any contraband. Before we exited the camp bus, the Old Man pulled me aside and told me to keep my eyes on a few of the seniors who would no doubt defy the warning and try to fill their pockets with itchy powder, rubber turds and black soap.

I watched the more recalcitrant members of the brood with extra-sharp, hawk-eyes but Perry’s was a very distracting venue. Apart from the racks and racks of every Maine-related souvenir one could imagine, stacks of candy and goodies that would make a dentist smile, Perry’s was filled with a collection of odd and amazing collectibles including a 10 foot long snake skin, stuffed animals of all shapes and sizes, including alligators and giraffes, a large, menacing gorilla, and yes, even a “man-eating clam!”. Add to this an unlimited supply of comic books and games, fun house stuff like mirrors that made you look two feet tall and quickly all time was lost.

An hour later, and many dollars lighter, the camp boys and staff were back on the bus heading down US 1 satiated and content. Filled with candy and ice cream, more than a few youngsters didn’t finish their supper that night.

And despite the staff’s best efforts, the next morning we all recoiled in disgust when a realistic-looking puddle of rubber vomit was discovered on one of the dining room tables.

The camp director never did find out who put it there, but it would be a couple of years before we would visit Perry’s Nut House again.

See the news story about Perry's Nut House

Perry's Nut House website

~j