Twitter, Tweeple and Me

Hanging up the phone after an arduous session with a demanding client, I wanted to pull my hair out. Said client demanded we give him a marketing campaign exactly like his competitor: only better. Time after time I have endeavored to remind him that he wants to be different from the masses, to lead and not to follow. Those kind of people remind me of bleating sheep, otherwise known as sheeple.

With derision in his voice dripping with insinuation like a tree after a heavy rain, he proceeds to tell me he was not paying me to think but to do.

Forgive me for allowing thoughts to enter my brain. I didn't mean it. Sometimes it is out of my control. You see I havea brain. I can think. I can reason. I can make decisions on my own. I actually have ideas that aren't regurgitated mantras.

I know, shocking isn't it?

Here's an example. The following conversation is accurate. The names have been changed to protect the guilty.

ME: Morning bro! Life still going well?

C: Can't complain.

ME: How's J?

C: Good

ME: Work okay?

C: Yeah

ME: Anything new going on?

C: No, same old, same old.

ME: I think I have a cold coming on.

C: Bummer.

ME: Yeah. The kids are coming for the holidays!

C: Cool.

ME: The baby is sick too. We'll have our hands full.

C: Bummer

ME: How's the weather there?

C: Ok

ME: Want to join Twitter with me?

C: (Long, long silence) Ummm?

ME: Yes?

C: You know I love you, right?

ME: Yep!

C: You know I'd give my life for you, right?

ME: Yep!!

C: Good! Byeeee!

I guess that means he doesn't wants to be one of my tweeple.

People are probably wondering what's wrong with me. But let me explain

When Myspace was the thing having an internet connection at all was a rare thing for me more or less being able to spend time online networking. Then Facebook became all the rage. When I moved I was excited to know I could now text someone without paying a cell phone bill the size of the national debt. My oldest makes me curious when she talks frequently expounding on the virtue of owning an IPod. What's an IPod? Okay so I'm sometimes a bit slow. Explanations ensue. What an awesome invention!

Now I was hearing everywhere about Twitter. After all this time of coming in years too late on the most current craze I was determined not to miss out this time! My analytical mind researched, questioned and approached this task with glee. Days later I was in tears. What was wrong with me?!? Why didn't I "get it"? I am a relatively intelligent person. I speak, read and write in four languages. I have owned my own successful business for 12 years, have traveled the world extensively, can hold my own in a discussion and have been known to impress even the most cynical of corporate counsels with my expertise. Yet here I am, a 40 something unable to comprehend why on God's green earth I would want to Twitter my tweeple about the minute details of my everyday life. How could they possibly find it relevant or entertaining? Heck, that kind of stuff bores ME and I'm living it!

In desperation I call my sister. She is a savvy younger woman who knows about life

ME: Sis I think I'm a social networking imbecile.

I: Why is that?

ME: I can't figure out how to use or the idea behind Twitter. It's driving me crazy!

I: Why would you want to?

ME: It's the thing to do!

I: Don't hate me for saying this but if everyone else was jumping off a plane without a parachute, would you?

ME: NO! Darn it sis you sound like mom!

I: My point is just because someone else is doing it doesn't mean you have to. You've always done things your way without the approval of others. Why change now?

ME: True.

I: Feel better?

ME: Yeah, thanks.

I: You're welcome.

So I had come to the conclusion that I would sit this craze out. Maybe the next one will be more my thing. Unfortunately my clients harangued me about being a marketer and ignoring Twitter in my social media. If I was going to talk the talk I had better walk the walk.

Maybe one day I will actually figure out how to use Twitter properly. I'll become the Twitter Queen and have millions of followers. My 140 character tweets will become the things legends are made of.

Until that time though I think I'll keep my personal foibles relegated to close friends and family. There's something to be said about sitting down across from someone to have an actual conversation that isn't limited to 140 characters or less.

See Mr. Client, sometimes being different can be more rewarding than being a sheeple; or tweeple.

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See more of Grace's skewed look at life on her personal blog, Life is a Banquet.