Twitterquake and Twittercane

Posted on August 27, 2011 by Linda Bernstein

On Tuesday I was sitting quietly at my desk, writing (as is my wont and paid profession) and I felt the floor rumbling. My first reaction was, “oh, this is an earthquake,” and I tweeted this:

Then it occurred to me that maybe the boiler had blown up (I live on the third floor in a NYC apartment building) or that a water main in the street had erupted. (This has happened too.) In the front hall, the china cabinet was shaking, and I yelled to my husband (who was home), “call the super,” while I went to knock on our next door neighbor’s door because I thought maybe he was doing something, um, earth shattering. Anyway, Kevin wasn’t home, and when I got back into the apartment, my husband said, “Marino said maybe it’s an earthquake.” By the time I got back to my computer, Twitter had confirmed it. While minutes before everyone had been tweeting about the fall of Tripoli, and I was especially caught up in the drama of CNN reporter Matthew Chance who was being held hostage at the Rixos hotel (now that’s a made-for-TV movie waiting to happen), now everyone was talking about the earthquake and within seconds I knew where the epicenter had been and had heard from people as far north as Toronto and as far south as Atlanta who had felt the rumblings. Then the earthquake jokes started, but within a couple hours, Twitter was once again concerned with Libya and other random stuff.

Twitter joke:

At first FEMA commended New Yorkers for using social media to check on their loved ones. That’s what we’re supposed to do, and that’s why YOU should be on Twitter. People in California pooh-pooh New Yorkers for even twitching at what was basically a tremor of 2.0 magnitude. But this was OUR earthquake. And then The New York Times “City Room Blog” published this: New York Earthquake Showed New Yorkers Had Bad Instincts – NYTimes.com http://nyti.ms/n4v4DN. Oops. Seems like all those buildings that evacuated into the street—bad idea. If this had been a real earthquake, glass could have gone flying and killed people. Ask anyone what to do in an earthquake: “Stand in a doorway,” is the old advice—something about which there’s some debate. Still, you don’t go out into the street. Then again, New Yorker have imprinted in their minds now all the World Trade Center workers who, on 9/11, were told to stay at their desks. And so . . . at least we got the Twitter part right.

Now, as if the East Coast hasn’t had enough, we’re about to get hit by a hurricane, some relatively rare in the Northeast. Again, people took to twitter. Lots of jokes. I posted a YouTube video of Jerry Garcia singing “Goodnight Irene.”

There has been much good information all day—links to maps of the hurricane path, to emergency management, and this:

A young reporter who volunteered to go to North Carolina and, I guess, storm chase, posted this:

Anyway, right now, with Irene barreling up the coast, there’s still time to get on Twitter so you can get links to evacuation maps, storm track maps, and all kinds of other important information. At another time, I’ll do a more in-depth blog about Twitter full of tips and tricks. But here’s how to add to your disaster management in three easy steps:

Join Twitter. Go to www.twitter.com. You’ll need to chose your Twitter name, or “handle.” Lots of people use some form of their real names and sometimes put a “score” between them, like @John_Smith. If you have a common name, it will probably already be taken. So get creative. If you think you might in the future want to use your Twitter account, choose something appropriate, like @BestPlumber. Or you can be clever. I was clever (@Wordwhacker) and now I’m stuck with a handle that has nothing to do with my “brand.” Oh, well. But you can change your Twitter name or have a second account. Oh, you’ll need an email address.
Fill in bio; put in picture (avatar). You can make your bio brief: “Susan Pancakes loves food. She’s the Pancake Queen.” But put something in; otherwise, you’ll look like a “bot,” that is, an robot account that does nothing but cause trouble and make Twitter Spam. Also, put a picture in. (Pictures are called “avatars” in Twitter, except nobody says that. They say “picture.) Nobody trusts a Twitter egg, the default avatar. If you don’t want to use your own picture (privacy issues? OK, I get it.), Google “daisies,” pull the picture from Google onto your desktop or save it in your files, and then select that.
Start following people. Twitter is only as good as the people you follow. Since we’re thinking about emergencies right now, start by following your local radio and TV stations. Go to the “search” box on Twitter and type in the name. Twitter will then go to a page with “top tweets” that concern anything close to what you typed in. On the right side of the page, you’ll see a list of possible accounts. You’ll probably recognize the real one. (Most public figures/organizations have “verified” accounts, so you’ll see a blue check mark.) Click on the name, and then click on follow. Also, you can follow national news organizations, such as CNN (a good one), FOX, ABC, NBC, and CBS. See if your local newspaper has an account. You’ll probably also find reporters with accounts. You may want to follow @AARP (you are a boomer, after all). If you want, follow movie stars or Steven Colbert (@Steveathome). Follow anyone you know who is on twitter. For people you know, send them a tweet to let them know you’re on Twitter, so they’ll follow back. Tweet me (@wordwhacker), mention you read this, and I’ll follow you. Eventually, the more you interact, the more followers you’ll get. You’ll also get a lot of “bots,” but that’s another lesson. Meanwhile, here’s a good link from @PBS: http://ow.ly/6erJZ.

Some other things to think about as we go into the first hurricane to make landfall in the USA in three years:

If you lose electricity, your electric phones won’t work. Now’s the time to find that old model that just plugs into the wall.
Charge your cell phone. It’s possible that cell phone towers will experience problems too, but it’s also likely that you’ll have cell reception.
Make sure you have jugs of water in your refrigerator and a couple of pails in your bathrooms. If the power goes out, eventually, toilets won’t flush.
Know where your flashlights are in case the power goes out. That old radio that works on batteries? Find it and put in new batteries.
Keep in touch. If you know anyone in the hurricane path who lives alone or who is infirm, check up on him or her, often.
Call your kids. They worry.

As always, please leave comments on my website! I love comments. You can ask questions, too, because as long as my power stays on (and as I am in the Berkshires, it will go out tonight), I’ll be online Twittering away my time. Stay safe everyone.

Not Quite In-Laws

Posted on July 17, 2011 by Linda Bernstein

I love Yiddish and wish I had actually paid attention when my father tried to teach me to read it. The language is vivid, flexible, and has kinds of words not found in many languages, such as a distinct term to denote the familial relationship between a man and his mother-in-law. I don’t know that one. In fact, when it comes to in-laws, I’m reduced to one word: machatonim—the meshpuchah (family) into which your child marries.

Technically, I needn’t be thinking about this yet. Neither my son nor my daughter is engaged. It’s not something I’m waiting for with baited breath, either. I really like the current boyfriend and girlfriend and if engagements occur, I’ll be happy. Meanwhile, though . . . well, it will happen when it happens.

(One thing that might be delaying the engagement thing: right now, my kids and their significant others are unemployed lawyers, but that’s another column. In the meantime, check out this from The New York Times: http://nyti.ms/oM4yVi about the law school racket, how the schools churn out more and more lawyers in the face of fewer and fewer jobs while the presidents and faculties get rich)

But during the past two-and-a-half years, as both became romantically attached, they developed strong relationships with other families. At first, I did not like this. I still sometimes feel a little piqued or put upon when my son or daughter chooses to spend time with the boyfriend’s or girlfriend’s family when I really want them to be home with us. I admit to the itsy bitsy part of me that wishes they were still little and totally dependent on us for everything, when we were their world. (Well, I got that over with. By the time I finished typing that sentence, I went back to loving that they’re independent and interesting young adults.)

Of course, I kind of knew this would happen. But I also sort figured my daughter would marry her brother’s first friend (son of good friends of ours—didn’t happen). I also wanted my children to have much better relationships with their in-laws than I had with mine. My in-law problem had much to do with geography—they lived in Florida and came to New York City three times from the day I married their son until they died. My husband and I, later with the kids, went to Florida for at least a week a year, but we never grew close.

My parents and my in-laws were a bad match, too. Not that they actively disliked each other. They just had nothing in common. Maybe they’d call each other on holidays, but that was it.

So, I am pleasantly surprised that my children picked partners with really nice families with good values. In the realm of coincidences possible in this life, my daughter fell in love with a young man from the small town nearest to our country house. So we started seeing his parents socially every now and then—movies, informal dinners. Now it’s more often. Yesterday afternoon I found myself in town in the hardware store, frustrated that I couldn’t find a crock just right for making cucumber half sour pickles like the ones my grandmother made. It occurred to me that I was a 1 minute drive from Dave’s folks. So I picked up my iPhone and spent the next two hours sitting on the front porch of a Victorian era farmhouse. Nice. My son’s girlfriend’s mom and I have been exchanging emails as the kids study for the bar exam. Her dad is on Facebook, and sometimes I see him there. Nice. My son’s girlfriend’s family go to the shore for a vacation each year; my son is joining them. Nice. My daughter’s boyfriend’s family goes to a lake in Maine, and she’ll be part of that group. Nice.

There’s no name for this expansion of family pre-marriage. We have new friends, not necessarily besties, but people we like. Our kids have other adults with whom they interact, about whom they care. I suppose there would have been a word in Yiddish, should the language have evolved in that direction. (The only people who actively and daily use language, aside from some cultural enthusiasts, are certain sects of Orthodox Jews who do not, I imagine, have these kinds of relationships since their kids get married. Early.) Me, the word person—I’m willing to just enjoy the feeling.

Here is a t-shirt I hope I’ll be wearing one day:

Follow your kids’ lead. My kids weren’t the type to “bring home” just anyone. When they were ready, we were happy to meet the person. I’ve always tried not to pressure or nag, though, I must say, I haven’t always succeeded. So I say, “follow your kids’ lead” in the spirit of “take this good advice I’ve heard from others,” not, “oh, follow my example.”
Try not to mention ex-boyfriends or ex-girlfriends. We’ve been pretty good about that, though sometimes it’s hard not to mention them especially when they play a role in a funny story. My rule here is that you get to tell the story, but you don’t emphasize the ex.
Don’t call a current boyfriend or girlfriend by an ex’s name. I mention this because I’ve done it. My son dated a girl named Megan in high school, and I sometimes call the dog Megan. I don’t get it.
Be there for your kid, even when the significant other is in the right. A corollary to this is that even after a break-up, don’t overly malign the ex because they might get back together. A former boss whose kids were a bit older than my gave me this advice: her daughter unengaged and re-engaged about three times before that relationship finally bit the dust.

As always, I invite your comments and would love to hear your almost-in-law stories.

News By Phone Call: A Boomer’s Further Adventures in Social Media

Posted on May 3, 2011 by Linda Bernstein

Sunday night my husband and I had knocked off for the evening at 8 p.m. to watch a rerun of episode of “The Borgias” that we had missed last week on Showtime. At 9 p.m. we took a break to get ready for bed. At 10 p.m. we sat down for this week’s episode of sex and violence. (“The Borgias” has great production values, but it’s really bad television.) At 10:30 the phone rang. I looked at the caller ID, saw it was my son, and was actually a little annoyed. It was kind of late, and we were watching sex and violence: Jeremy Irons plays the part of the Borgia Pope and continually hits the sack with beautiful young women, that is, when one of the other characters isn’t stabbing or poisoning some villain or poor innocent or hitting the sack with someone else.

“Osama Bin Laden is dead,” my son said.

It took moments for this to register.

“The president is speaking soon,” he added.

(I admit that I was so stunned that I made the Obama/Osama slip of the tongue, much to my family’s amusement.)

So now we had to switch to CNN. When it because clear the President wasn’t speaking for a while yet, we turned back to Showtime and watched a bit more sex and violence.

A phone call. Here I am Ms. Social Media of the Baby Boomer set, and my source for this huge story is not Twitter, FB or even all the news sites I keep up on my browser or feeding into my RSS. Pretty old school, I’d say.

“There will be people going to Ground Zero and Times Square, probably Rockefeller Center, too,” I told my husband.

“Why?” he asked. I mean, seriously, it was kind of too late at night to get dressed and go outside, even to share such a meaningful moment.

This morning when I got to my desk, where, by the way, I had left my iPhone overnight (another handy social media device), I looked through nearly 1000 tweets and figured out that if I had been watching my Twitter feed, I would probably have known by about 9:30 p.m. Many of the reporters and news agencies I follow on Twitter (meaning I get to see what they are tweeting) were already saying that Obama was giving a speech. The speculation ran the gamut from the capture of Qadaffi to the death of Joe Biden. But the general consensus was that the USA had taken out its most wanted mass murderer.

Did I mind that this historic event had slipped past me when I disconnected from the interwebs? Not really. But then again, I almost got out of bed to tweet something on the order of, “Why have we thought OBL was hiding in a cave?” Indeed, that did become my FB status at one point Monday. (A smart ass friend from college suggested that maybe it had something to do with Plato’s metaphor.)

As for not being part of a celebrating crowd of fellow Americans—even before Obama’s speech I pointed out to my husband how young the people gathering outside the White House seemed to be. Monday morning, through Twitter and FB, I found out that many Gen Yers I know who live in and around D. C. were there. In the video clips taken at Times Square I saw faces of kids’ friends and friends’ kids. Not my friends, though. It was 11:30 p.m. I suspect that like me they were about to go to sleep. Rob Lowe was probably the oldest person in the crowd.

Pundits have suggested that, ironically, Bin Laden’s lack of tech presence may have led to his discovery. It was his couriers who were tracked, and his compound had no Internet or telephone. A CNN article from September 20, 2001 notes that Bin Laden had already dropped off the technology map and was not using satellite phones in an effort to stay off the radar (literally). (See http://bit.ly/kB2e7R, “Bin Laden Exploits Technology to Suit His Needs”) There are going to be a lot of questions needing answers that we may never get: how could a mansion in an area outside an important city in Pakistan, a suburb that’s home to the military college and many retired Pakistani army people, one that didn’t even sport a TV antenna let alone satellite dish, go unnoticed? These days, it’s lack of technology that stands out.

News sources tell us that Sunday night, “Twitter exploded.” (For typical hyperbole, see the Huffington Post “Osama Bin Laden’s Death Leaked Via Twitter,” http://huff.to/ixDfyk.) Egypt and Tunisia had their “Twitter Revolutions.” Now we have had our Twitter . . . our Twitter . . . ? Yes, my Twitter feed had gone nuts, my Facebook page was afire. Me, I was in my nightgown, waiting for our President to speak. And then I went to bed.

Look for me on Twitter: @wordwhacker. Or find me on FB. Linda Bernstein. I have a “profile” and a “page.” You can like the page.

Which brings me to: I have such a clever “handle” for someone who has made her living as a writer and editor. But @wordwhacker doesn’t really fit into my Baby Boomer branding. Should I change it? To something like @GenB2? Let me know in your comments.

Social Media, Here We Come, or A Baby Boomer’s First Ten Days on Twitter

Posted on May 1, 2011 by Linda Bernstein

I can’t claim I was dragged kicking and screaming into this Twitter thing. I paid tuition for Sree Sreenivasan’s Social Media course at the Columbia Journalism School . I took the subway uptown. I sat down in a class. Actually, first I had a meeting re reunion business at Barnard and then dashed across Broadway at 116^th Street, raced down the steps toward the Columbia library (noting that the lawn is draped in white—seeding?), and hung a sharp right into the Journalism building, where I had not been since . . . . since a long time ago.

My high regard for Sree Sreenivasan dates back to my years (again a long time ago) at Sesame Street Parents when he wrote some family tech columns for the magazine. This was before he had a family, but he certainly had tech. It was also before Twitter, before Facebook, before broadband, and though I’ve always had this techie rep (I like to fiddle with things, a trait I inherited from my father, who was a chemist and educator, and also a licensed plumber and electrician), I didn’t know much about the Internet back then. Still, I was easily identified the geek who would edit the tech column.

But I am that much older now, and I worry about whether being part of Generation B-Squared means that I should throw my hands up in the air over social media and disappear from the blogosphere. Will I get it? I mean in social media terms. Many techies (information providers?) adamantly argue that people are now getting their news through social media, and it’s great because your news is tailored through your social network filters to your interests. (See, in particular, “How News Consumption is Shifting to the Personalized Social News Stream” on Mashable: http://on.mash.to/g1zmKZ.) Frankly, I find this a little horrifying. Sure, journalists I’m following on Twitter post links to news media articles. But how much weight I give the information in these links depends on the source of the information—and the reputation of the journalist. Yes to The New York Times, Slate, The Guardian, NPR, PSBNewshour. No to @Marcisgod, whom I would trust to direct me to a pair of blue suede Tods, if I so desired, but who I’m not sure knows that there was a recent earthquake and tsunami in Japan. I’m going to bump up against the NYT’s paywall (except my husband has his “education subscription”) because I probably read 20 online articles a day. True, I used the word “online” in the previous sentence, but I fear I’m too old fashioned. I’m a baby boomer. The oldest in my demographic cohort are turning 65 this year. (The youngest don’t even have wrinkles. We’re a large group, and all that will be in my book.)

Then again, I took to Facebook like a—oh, throw in any cliché there, and it’s true. I pay more attention to FB than my Gen Y kids. With their 1000 or so friends—everyone with whom they went to elementary, middle school, high school, college, worked, or got drunk in a bar—they have already outgrown it, sort of. I, on the other hand, really use it. Socially. (And not for self-branding, as Sree advocates.) I know or have at least met all of my friends (except for Cindy Stivers, who seemed to have appeared on my friend list one day). Aside from face-to-face time with friends, most of my communication has become electronic. My friend Maki lives three buildings down from mine. I could probably go up to my roof and jump into her backyard, a place I love to sit and schmooze and drink wine. Telephone communication is now limited to, “You home? I’m passing your door.” But there’s lots of FB back and forth.

FB is amazing in a lot of ways. A significant book person I know posted a picture of a door with a patch of gold leaf applied. “There must be a story in this,” he commented. And then his writer friends started posting three- or four-line stories. Some were really good.

Of course there are the pictures. I get to see my great-nieces and nephew. My best friend’s great-niece. My daughter’s dog. My friend’s kitchen renovation. Another friend’s new iPhone app. I post shots of what I see during my runs in the park. I also documented recent renovations at the country house. I get to be a wiseguy. My friends get to be wiseasses. We’re all wiseacres.

This is possible because my FB is shut pretty tight. All my settings are for friends only. I do not show up in a Google search. I also have no qualms about un-friending people who get sucked into the FB spam-scans. Over the past couple of weeks I have unfriended about 40 people who still are wondering what some woman found in her Happy Meal or think that if they open up their address books, they’ll get a free iPad, or one that costs $14.99 at any rate. I’ll be happy to be their FB friends again—in fact I look forward to it. But first I have to know that they’re not so gullible. (I sent email messages to people I unfriended explaining my actions.)

All of this indicates that so far this baby boomer finds Facebook much more comfortable than Twitter. On Facebook you can see someone’s profile. It’s a much more hamische (“homey” in Yiddish) place as far as I can tell.

Still, I’ve been using Twitter for only 10 days. I have tweeted only 49 times. Yesterday I read that Judy Woodruff tweeted only three times in 2009, so I guess I’m on the right track at least.

I’m also trying to follow Sree’s suggestions for what makes a good tweet: is it helpful, useful, relevant, timely, actionable, and so forth. So far I’m being mostly me. Someone I’m “following” asked, “How influential are you on twitter?” Look, I’m not even influential in my own kitchen. So much for that.

But I’m keeping it up because: Power to the Baby Boomers! Right on! We are the largest demographic and even though I know many people my age who have trouble with email and no interest, they say, in Facebook, can you imagine the influence about 72 million Baby Boomers would wield if we took all the social media invented by Gen Y (mostly) and made it our own? That’s my intention. Social Media, I’m going to own you.

Sree says one should always sign off with her twitter handle: I’m @wordwhacker. Sree is @Sree (of course) and if you’re interested in social media at all, I suggest you follow his SreeTips page on FB. It’s also a great place if you know young people (your kids, their friends) looking for journalism or social media jobs.

Finally, @Sree, Sesame Street Parents never paid you for one of your columns. I called you a lot, left sweet messages, cajoling messages. I think this was before email. (Notice how quickly I’ve adapted to the new AP Style Sheet and removed the hyphen! I am so, so adaptable despite needing a colorist to maintain my real-looking blondish frizzy curls.) Too bad, @Sree; the magazine died a decade ago—but the money may have covered one or two orthodontist bills for your adorable twins.

So, as you comment, think about what you believe might be the obstacles slipping between Generation B-Squared and new media. I’d love to know you thoughts, reactions, bright ideas. They’ll all go in my book. Promise.

Linda (@wordwhacker)

GenerationBSquared

What Baby Boomers Need to Know

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