Tuesday, December 15, 2009

All A-Twitter - Not!

It seemed like a great idea.

And it gave us a lot of words to make fun of - twitter, tweats, twit, twittering. (Or maybe "twit" is the name I use for drivers who blow their horns at me just because I don't begin to move when the light is still red.)

We never followed anyone on Twitter. Couldn't figure out why we should. It never made it on our "Ya Gotta Love This" list. We had followers, but once we caught on to -- and blocked -- the scam artists and the questionable invitations from women with provocative names, we had still a pretty good number of followers, but we weren't sure they were paying any attention. After all, some of them were following a gigantic-mongous-normous number of people (now, I've heard of being bored, but reading tweats from twitterers every hour?) and others seemed pretty unlikely to care what we said.

We bragged about client accomplishments, mentioned some of our own stuff, and then got tired of thinking up something new that would fit in that tiny space and go, mostly, unnoticed or unloved.

So, perhaps we're at the beginning or the end of a trend, or maybe we're just alone in this. We've killed Twitter. Well, our Twitter, that is.

We'll continue this blog posting. We have our company website for new and exciting things and our "creative writing" website - www.mesaverdepress.com - is going strong. In fact, we're at the onset of redoing it, so we can continue to promote my books (selling some, we hope) and raising funds for the opera, "Biafra." Sure do want to get it funded so awesomely talented composer Nathan Blume can finish scoring it and I can hear my libretto sung through all three acts. But, as you know by now, when that's said and sung, I won't be tweating about it.

So, good-bye, ol' Twitter. Facebook is a-comin', LinkedIn, Smaller Indiana, and Plaxo are alive and well (once the blitz of unintended LinkedIn invites were stopped!).

See you there. Or, hey, pick up the phone, write a letter, send an e-mail. Wave to me. Just don't blow the horn. I tend to wave back with only part of my hand.