Friday 12 August 2011

It started with a tweet...

Well, a Twitter direct message actually. Then it was a LinkedIn note, an SMS and finally a good old-fashioned (already; I know) email.

Nowadays, we traverse the digital waters with ease. Conversations move seamlessly from one medium to another. Facebook have embraced this trend, and found an excellent trick to keep disengaged users from lazily ignoring their persistent friends: what starts as an IM quickly becomes a Facebook inbox message (which, incidentally, you get notified about in your email inbox. Possibly as part of a digest [aside: interesting approach. Are their open/delivery rates that low?]).

But do we really remain constant across the channels? We tolerate mindless nonsense from certain TV networks, whilst from others we demand high-quality entertainment. Do we, in turn, change our expectations when we find ourselves participating in digital channel surfing?

- Flick: Email is for keeps. Even the most fervent of archivers will find each most recent email most likely contains a lengthy chain of correspondence. As such, are we more careful about email content?
- Flick: Interactive messaging, on the other hand, is erased once we sign off (storing logs is of course possible but, I'd wager, uncommon). Are we less discerning? More abrupt? Do we stutter our way through, asking short-fire questions rather than exchanging detailed news (the very nature of IM is that it has to follow a Q&A approach, else it quickly stalls)?
- Flick: But king still is the SMS. It might as well stand for "See Me Soon", so incessant is its cry. We'll attend to a text before any other medium, I believe, simply because it's the demanding child in the room - and, luckily, the one that's easiest to appease. It's not the right framework for a lengthy reply; the little beep is always welcome as it explains to everyone around that we're really rather popular; and the social contract is such that a simple answer is perfectly acceptable. No further questions, your Honour.

I wonder if Facebook's new fluid treatment of chats / messages will make a difference to how we "chat", knowing that it's no longer just a throwaway line. "Oi, are you there?" isn't quite such a friendly welcome in an inbox, so will we start crafting our introductions? Or possibly not bother with those long-lost friends who deserve a proper first paragraph if we're pretty certain we're not going to catch them there and then?

I'd love to see the stats. I'd love to see if messaging has increased as a result of false-start "chats" being transported into the inbox, or if the fleeting greetings are in fact ignored as being pithy and temporal - and consequently, deletable.

I'm a big fan of email, but believe Facebook chat windows will remain just that: real-time conversation openers that quite simply aren't designed to be conducted with lengthy delays. If I'm going to email someone, it'll be because that's the approach I've chosen beforehand. The method will dictate the medium - not the other way round.

Anyway; it's just gone 9am in the UK. I'm off to see who's on Facebook...


Monday 1 August 2011

The girl in the turquoise top

She took some photos, then headed back down the 494 steps to the beach. I saw her later buying a coffee as we entered the pretty waterside cafe, and then passed her again retracing her steps by the shore.

Meanwhile, we scampered back down the steps, pausing to catch our breath as we snapped the landscape; laughing as I instigated a futile game of tig. We talked, we pondered, we counted through our friends (old and new), excited about when we could bring them to this beautiful spot.

But what about her? Who shared the glorious scenery with this girl, the one with the small smile, the empty coffee cup, and the cosy cardi now draped over her shoulders? Who helped put it there?

Of course, maybe she enjoyed it more for the solitary stroll. Maybe she got to spend some much-needed "alone time", the rest of her life crowded with people and the furious art of being busy.

I didn't quite believe the excuse I found myself making for her, however. A few yards behind strolled what looked like an elderly mother and her daughter, hand in hand, both positively beaming. And over the course of the walk we'd passed proud grandparents, dog-walking chums, young lovers and valiant walking groups, all of whom seemed simply buoyed at being able to share the beauty with their companions. "Look at that!" they could hardly stop themselves exclaiming - such is the human desire to share the good and the wonderful with one's fellows on this earth.

So my message to myself (and to you, dear reader, if you're looking for one) is to live life in the plural. Yes, a moment of individual contemplation may be good for the soul, but to put yourself in such a situation that this self same soul cannot help but enlighten - and be enlightened by - others, well, that'll be even better.

And as for that girl: if she ever fancies strolling some more shores, I do hope she gets in touch.