Ran across an interesting question on Twitter a few weeks ago: Writers, have you ever faced harsh criticism?

I must admit that question strikes a chord with me. Oh, not necessarily from something that happened here at Middle Zone Musings or anything. I’m happy to report that, since I started writing here at the Zone, there have only been a couple of instances when someone decided to, er, let me have it.

What was it about, you ask? Well, suffice it to say, said criticism had absolutely nothing to do with my ability to write, if you get my meanin’. Thankfully, things have pretty much always been fairly even-keeled around here. I suppose, in a way, it’s a welcome vindication of my goal that the Zone appeal to as many folks as possible.

Anyhoo, getting’ back to the subject…

Lookin’ a mite further back, though, I remember all those English teachers I faced from grade school on up through college. But I suppose we all wrestled with them as we grew up. Par for the course, right? So, on the whole, I’d say I’ve done OK.

Ah, but what about undeserved criticism vis a vis your writing ability? Now that’s a critter of a different hue, wouldn’t ya say? I remember this one, um, professor (imagine the word forced out through clenched teeth – but don’t worry; I’m over it now) from my first year in college…

Firm Foundation

Now ya gotta understand, y’all; I started reading at an early age and loved it. Back when I was a kid (that’s human, not goat), while everyone else was outside playing in the sandbox, you’d more than likely find me over in a quiet corner somewhere reading a book.

Even back then science fiction was my favorite (and still is, for that matter). Not that one type of reading matter is better than any other type, mind you, but I’ve always believed reading sci-fi stories is what helped jump start a broad technical vocabulary, not to mention help point me towards my current career in engineering. (At least that’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.)

Well, once I grasped the fundamentals of writing (somewhere along about High School) I always got good grades on writing assignments. Plus, along the way I discovered writing was sorta fun – especially when I was allowed to let loose my imagination, y’know?

Suffice it to say, then, that I was fairly confident in my ability to string words together in a way that not only managed to say what I wanted to them to say, but I could say it in a way that would satisfy pretty much anyone. Until, as I said, I started college.

Rude Awakening

My first-year encounter with college was quite an adjustment, I’ll tell ya! Not only was it my first time living away from home, but it wasn’t long before I ran smack dab into a particularly hard truth about college life. The fact is, the word school took on a whole new meaning for me. See, up until then, going to school wasn’t really a choice, y’know? I mean, I had to go whether I liked it or not.

I quickly discovered, however, that now I was surrounded by folks who had actually chosen to be there. (Imagine that!) And I’m not exaggerating in the least when I say that put a whole ‘nuther hump on the camel, if you get my meanin’.

Even the teachers (oops, professors) were different. Although most of them genuinely seemed to like what they were doing, there were a few who sorta, er, stood out from the herd – both good and bad. And I’ll tell ya; nobody was worse than… Dr. Dead! (flash of lighting, crack of thunder, sound of terrified scream)

Dr. Dead

Now, at first blush you may be thinkin’ to yerself, Hey, that’s a pretty harsh moniker to give a college professor! Where’s the respect, Bubba? But hear me out, my friends; hear me out as I relate to you what happened on that fateful first day in English 101.

Here’s the scene: It’s your typical college classroom, complete with room-spanning blackboard at the front (yes, we used blackboards back then – and please, no snide “age” comments from the peanut gallery, thank you very much) along with a wooden teacher’s desk that had obviously seen better days. About 25 of us were seated in metal and/or wooden student’s desks, back packs at our feet, freshly-scrubbed faces eager and ready for our first exposure to, y’know, what we laughingly refer to as “higher eddicashun” (that’s “education” for you upper-crust types).

Anyway, once we all got situated, an old man tottered in and headed for the desk at the front. (Yes, he really “tottered”. Seriously.) Upon reaching the desk, he turned around, sat down on the edge and crossed his legs like a talk show host. Then he crossed his arms as well, all the while giving us the once-over with his steely gaze. (For you “body language” gurus: what would that posture tell you?) Then:

“Good morning; my name is (name redacted to protect, er, me),” he began in his thin, reedy voice. “This is English 101, and for those of you who may have heard this is a tough class… well, they are quite correct.”

He continued in this vein for a few minutes, and I could see the other students’ eyes reflecting the same sense of impending doom I was beginning to feel. After a while, he began to talk about his “style”, and that’s when it started getting a mite, um, surreal.

“Now some of you may consider yourselves to be good, or even excellent at your use of the English language.” He paused to survey the room, making sure he had all our attention, then – well, that’s when he lowered the ol’ boom on us. “I want you to understand this fact: I will be the sole judge of your ability to write. It doesn’t matter what you think; my opinion is the only one that matters here. I am sixty-four and one-half years old, and only six months from retirement, so we’re going to do this class my way, and my way only!”

There was more, but I’m tellin’ ya, at this point it was so quiet a dropped pin woulda sounded like a 30-car pileup; I don’t think any of us even dared breathe for a few moments. I mean, what the heck was this? It was after that first class when I overheard a couple of other students use the name, “Dr. Dead”. Needless to say, it didn’t take long for that little gem to stick.

He Lived Up To His Name

I’ll tell ya, when he told us his way was the only way, he wasn’t kidding! Our first paper was due the very next class (and for those of you who don’t know, English 101 is pretty much ALL writing “papers”) and I knew it was going to either make or break me as far as this class was concerned. Although I admit my confidence was a mite shaken, at that point I wasn’t too worried. I mean, I had already proven I was pretty good at it, right? (He said, nervously.)

Well, I turned my paper in on time (of course). When we met next, I was running a bit late, so by the time I arrived Dr. Dead was already handing out our graded papers. As he delivered each one I tried to see if there were any clues as to the results.

Yup, sure enough. It was kinda like watchin’ wallpaper fade (albeit a mite faster). Each face reflected the same sequence of reactions. First, there was a widening of the eyes in surprise (when they saw their grade), followed by a silent snort of disgust (or its equivalent) as they immediately compared it with their neighbor’s grades. Finally, there was a rolling of the eyes as they realized EVERYONE was as shocked as they were.

I was therefore not too surprised that my own grade was, er, less than stellar; I mean, I’d already seen the movie, if you follow me. Even so, I couldn’t help myself; as soon as I got mine, well, my eyes widened, I snorted – ah, you get the picture, right?

But it wasn’t that the grade starin’ me in the face was, to put it mildly, less that what I expected. I mean, that was bad enough. No, it was the fact that, right up there at the top of the page, there was a big, fat “F”! And in red ink, no less!

What the heck was this!?! I mean, I put my heart and soul into that paper – just so he would know I was better than the average writer, y’know? And this was my reward!? To say I was shocked is something of an understatement.

From Bad To Worse

Well, the class continued along those lines for pretty much the rest of the semester. And on every single paper, no matter what I did, I got almost the same results. (Although I did manage to pull out a “D” on one. I partied for a week.)

To say I was frustrated would be a major insult to the word “frustrated”, I’m tellin’ ya! I had conferences with the man several times, and each time he merely repeated his initial statement: his way or nothing. As the semester ground on, I even met with the Dean of the English Department to complain. Unsurprisingly, I got no help there.

I finally ended up dropping the class in hopes I could retake it with a different professor the next semester. And, although I passed it that second time, suffice it to say that by then my love of writing had pretty much been snuffed out like Smokey the Bear stomping out an unattended campfire in the woods.

I’ll tell ya, folks; I knew when I was beaten. As I look back on it now, I’m sure this little episode went a long way towards squelching my secret boyhood dream to eventually become a successful, rich and famous (not to mention loved by fans everywhere) sci-fi author. Sad, but true. (Not to lessen my own personal responsibility for makin’ the choice, mind you.) But to tell you the truth, I never wrote anything for fun again – until I took up blogging back in 2006.

A Hard Lesson

Well I’m not ashamed to admit I learned a hard lesson from this, y’all, and sad to say, it don’t necessarily paint ol’ yours truly in the best of lights, if you get my meanin’. My only defense, as pitiful as it may be, is that I was younger (and presumably more, well, let’s tell it like it was: stupid) than I am now.

The hard fact is, I’m the one who allowed that professor to dictate how I felt about my own writing – and about myself. In fact, I’ll go ever farther and say this: whether or not I was a good writer was irrelevant to the fact that I let someone else tell me how to feel about myself!

Friends, listen to an old cowboy and learn somethin’, won’t ya? Don’t do that!

As I’ve discovered the hard way, how we feel about ourselves is the one thing we’re pretty much in control of in this life, y’know? This incident, and others like it, taught me how easy it is to take someone else’s self-esteem down a notch or two.

And it doesn’t stop there. No, this sort of thing can have long-term consequences as well. It took quite a few years before I was again willing to risk having someone else read anything I wrote – in my case, 34 years. Yeesh, what a waste! But not to worry, I think I’ve finally gotten over it.

In fact, nowadays it’s gotten to where it’s kinda hard to shut me up. But then, that’s a dog of a different spot, wouldn’t ya say?

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Photo credit: F, by duncan

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Last Monday, I posted a list of questions that seem to have no reasonable answers. (‘Course, if you’d be willin’ to settle for unreasonable answers – hey, we got plenty of those.)

Out of Place

The other day I drove by one of our neighborhood U.S. Post Offices and, well, if you’ll glance at the photo you’ll see what I saw. Yeah, I know; there’s nothing particularly special about the place with its somewhat uninspired architecture, concrete parking lot, and boring landscaping. But… something seemed to jump out at me as, I don’t know, a bit out of place.

A little later I drove by the same spot and took the time to really check out the scene again. Finally I spotted what was bothering me. That tiny white spot the big, black arrow is pointing at is a mailbox. Wait – what? Yep, there it is; embedded in that short, square brick pillar, located right outside the post office door.

Now I ask you: Why would a post office need an external mailbox? Seems like a somewhat superfluous addition, don’cha think? I suddenly had an urge to mail a letter to the branch’s Postmaster, just to see if a mail carrier had to bring it outside and put it in the box. If I can just find a stamp. And paper. And, uh, a pen. (Naah, just kidding. I still remember how to actually hand write a letter (although my penmanship was never all that great), and I even know where Mrs. MZM keeps the stamps.)

(Sound of Dull Thud)

Anyhoo, as I wrote this post, it suddenly hit me! (sound of dull thud) In fact, it’s so obvious, I’m almost embarrassed to confess this. It seems like, after all these years of tellin’ y’all there are lessons to be learned from life pretty much everywhere – well, I sorta forgot that little detail for a bit. Call it a decade moment of insanity.

So there I was, taking note of this odd little architectural detail, wondering just what the heck it was all about. So what did I do? Took this photo, hopped into my car, drove home and wrote this post, right?

Now I ask ya: What’s wrong with this picture. (No, not that picture up there; this whole cotton-pickin’ episode.) Yep; you guessed it in one! Why didn’t I just go up there and take a look at the thing and find out why it’s there? As you can see from the photo, there’s obviously a plaque of some kind on top of that structure. Probably explaining exactly why it’s there and what it means.

All it would have taken was just a tiny little bit of time – to actually, y’know, look.

So gettin’ back to imponderable questions… Now the imponderable question is this: How come I didn’t take the time to go find out for myself? I mean, I was already there!

I hate to admit it, but for that one I have no answer.

Assignment for the Day Life

Awright y’all; now’s the time to learn from my mistake.

Your assignment, should you decide to accept it, is to take 5 minutes sometime today, find a good comfy spot, and take the time to observe the world around you. And don’t just be at rest; I want you to really look. Pretend you’re a recording device capturing everything around you in full fidelity. Listen to the sounds, smell the smells. Experience those minutes as fully as you can.

Now, write down as much as you can remember about what you noticed. Be as detailed as you can. If you really want to get something out of this exercise, do this every day for a week, writing down everything you can possibly remember.

And most of all – should you, like I did, see something that raises a question in your mind, don’t just wonder about it (like I did) – take an extra minute and go over there and find out the answer!

I’m tellin’ ya; you may be surprised at what you’ll discover!

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In case you’re wondering just what the heck happened to yours truly…

Well the good news is, I didn’t fall into a deep hole. And no, I didn’t become a fugitive from justice, change my name, and move to Gondwanaland, either. And, uh, I wasn’t retrieved by the Mother Ship (although you never know; that may yet happen).

(By the way, if you have NOT been wondering why I’ve not written anything new in a while – well, I’d rather you didn’t tell me and spoil the illusion. Just sayin’.)

Anyhoo – as you may or may not remember, I work in the engineering business, and unfortunately that particular segment of the economy (along with most of the others – with the possible exception of government employment) has been hit pretty hard. Naturally I’ve been searching for work for some time now.

The thing is, over the last few months I must admit to a certain lack of, well, inspiration when it comes to writing. Perhaps you know what I mean, right? As for me, my Muse decided to pack a bag, take a vacation,  and went trippingly out the door with nary a backward glace. I mean, not even a postcard! Sheesh!

Yup; that’s sorta what happened to me. Thus, not a single written word for about two months now.

However, the good news is I am once again fully employed! YEEHAW! (sound of crowd cheering and throwing their hats into the air) That’s right, y’all; the ranks of the unemployed have been reduced – to 8,499,999. (That is, if you accept that 8-1/2 million-jobs-lost number the U.S. Labor Department throws around. Sadly, the evidence suggests that number is ‘waaay bigger).

The Shape of Things to Come

The thing is, my new job is going to keep me a lot busier (as opposed to… not working), so needless to say, posting frequency is of necessity going to be greatly reduced. But then again, since I’ve only posted once since Easter, I suppose any posting would technically be an improvement.

Anyway, some things will of necessity have to change here in the Middle Zone.

First of all, the theme here at the Zone  (“lessons learned… from life”) will continue. It’s been a winner for a long time, and I see no reason to change directions. Life will always have a great deal to teach, and I hope to continue capturing and sharing at least a few of those lessons for as long as I’m still breathin’.

Having said that, though, you can probably expect any future posts to be on a somewhat irregular schedule, and likely no more than a few times a month. At least, until I get back into the swing of things. You know how it is, right? What with work (yay!), commute, sleep, church, and quality time with Mrs. MZM, well, there ain’t that much time left to write. Oh, I know; lots of folks manage to juggle all those balls and more without missing a beat. But I’d rather take my time and make sure the priorities get taken care of before taking on too much. So I’d rather work my way back up to something more regular over time. So let’s just see how it goes.

I’ve sadly decided to suspend our monthly What I Learned From… projects for a while. Hey, we’ve had a great run over the last three years, with nearly 1,000 entries from hundreds of folks. But I simply don’t have the time to keep it up right now. Maybe later we can start ‘em up again, but for now, feel free to enjoy the archives. Believe me, there’s some real gems in there.

Also, my social media time (which was, ahem, never much to speak of) has become virtually non-existent, and I don’t see that improving much in the near term. Oh, I’ll still be around, commenting on the occasional post or two. And I still use my RSS reader to keep track of my favorite bloggers. So just know I haven’t completely abandoned y’all; I’ll still probably be lurking there in the background. Really.

Finally, something else I’ve recently gotten into is photography. Thanks to an amazing turn of events, I recently acquired a “really nice” camera and have caught the photography bug. Alas and forsooth, once again there are only so many hours in the day, so while I’m happily learning something new – my writing will of necessity suffer because of it. Hopefully I’ll be able to combine both writing and photography in the future.

If you like, you’re welcome to observe my journey from budding neophyte to professional photographer (yeah, right!) by following my Flickr stream here . And yes, I do manage to peruse some of y’all’s Flickr streams as well. Keep up the good work!

Please Subscribe!

In the meantime, by all means, please continue your subscription to Middle Zone Musings via RSS or by email. I truly appreciate your continued patronage, and hopefully things will pick up soon. In fact, even as you read this I’ve got another post in the making. So stay tuned!

Oh, and a big ol’ tip o’ the hat to ya!

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By the way, you may or may not be wondering why on Earth I called this post the “wildebeest news” report. Well, it’s a sorta play on the way a certain word sounds in English. See, sometimes a wildebeest is called a “gnu”. And “gnu” rhymes with “new”, as in “latest”. Thus, “The Wildebeest News Report” translates into “The Latest News Report” Get it? Huh? Huh? (sound of audience groaning)

I’m tellin’ ya; sometimes I crack myself up.

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Sitting there waiting for the light to change, I glanced over at the big truck next to me and behold, there’s this big ol’ shiny wheel! After a moment’s contemplation, I decided what the hey, whipped out the ol’ phone, and took the shot. (Amazing how camera phones have exponentially increased casual photography among the general population, isn’t it?)

I often take shots of seemingly random objects or scenes these days, since it’s usually a complete mystery what I’m gonna write about from one day to the next. That way, the day I a need a photo of a big, shiny, truck wheel, voila! there ya go! (Sometimes, though (as in today), the photo inspires the post.)

The other day I got to thinkin’ about that wheel, and it occurred to me there might be a lesson or two in it. See, a wheel has several important characteristics. For instance, it supports the tire and gives it its shape. It’s part of the chain of items that transfers power from the engine to the road. It also turns, and turns, and turns…

The Island Syndrome

Let’s think about those first two for a moment, support and power transfer.

John Donne once wrote, “no man is an island”. I think some folks have a hard time rememberin’ that, though. The truth is, everything we do both supports, and is powered by, a vast array of other folks – and their endeavors. The moment we start thinkin’ we’re all alone out here on this big rock we call Earth, that’s when we start to getting into trouble.

Are you a writer? Do you imagine yourself hiding out in some secluded spot, hammering out that Great American (or German, or Scottish, etc.) Novel, isolated from your fellow man and working totally on your own? Well… that turns out not to be the case. (Translation: Wrong!) Are you using a computer to write? Who built it, and sold it to you? What about that place you’re in? Where did that come from? How did you get there – drive or fly?

No, every one of us is dependent upon a vast supply chain of products and services that help us accomplish whatever it is we want – every single moment of every single day. Like the drive train for that wheel, it helps shape our lives and support what we want to do, using a continuous chain of energy transfer from one person to the next.

Big Wheels Keep on Turnin’

Although we often use the image of an endlessly turning wheel as a negative image (think: treadmills, endless repetition, doin’ somethin’ over and over, etc.), the fact is, that ability to rotate enables something quite extraordinary.

F’rinstance; let’s say that wheel-and-tire combo you see in the photo has a diameter of, say, 30 inches. OK, according to the rules of mathematics, that makes the circumference… (let’s see; the formula is Ï€ x D – oops, not enough fingers; gotta take my shoes off for this one…) about 7.85 feet. Not really all that far, is it? But, if you roll that wheel along its axis, slightly more than 672 times, it’s travelled a whole mile!

You know that sayin’: “Practice makes perfect”? Well, it’s sorta like a wheel, turnin’ and turnin’ and turnin’. If you practice something enough, you’re bound to get it right – or at least, better at it, right? Pretty amazing to think that, just like a wheel, by doing a very simple thing, such as repeating an activity over and over, you may actually accomplish some pretty great things, can’t ya?

Just Curious

It occurs to me that most of us are workin’ on something – doin’ our level best to get better at it. As for me, I’m tryin’ to be an author, so I practice writing. Every story is another turn on the wheel. Ever wonder why lawyers and doctors call their work a practice? Because every time they do what they do, they learn something new, and – presumably – get better at it.

So what are you practicing? What are your plans? What is it you’re doing, over and over again? Color me curious…

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Image: Big Wheel, by Robert Hruzek

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Last week I issued an invitation for y’all to write a guest post here at the Middle Zone. Several folks have stepped up to the call, and I hope you’ll consider it too.

Speakin’ of guest posts, I thought I’d give you a list of the various and sundry places around the Web where I’ve sneaked a post in unawares had the privilege to be a guest writer. In case you didn’t know about, or just flat missed ‘em, here they are, in no particular order:

Published Down Under at Pete Aldin’s Great Circle:

How I Won the War on That Stupid Pipe

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Published at Brad Shorr’s Word Sell, Inc.:

One Key to Successful Sales – and Life

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Published at the SOBCon Blog:

What I Learned By Eating Pizza From the Wrong End First

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Published at G.L. Hoffman’s What Would Dad Say:

Sometimes You Just Need a Little Help

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Published at Scrambled Toast, also the brainwarp brainfreeze brainchild of Brad Shorr, and featuring fellow conspirator George Angus, who writes over at Tumblemoose Writing Productions:

Double-Take

Something Missing?

When Good Words Go Bad

When the Conversation Turns Ugly

Yes, But is it Art?

Name That Thing!

New Contest: It’s a Sign!

Sure, But Would You Wear the T-Shirt?

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Published at Joanna Young’s Confident Writing:

Standing Tall in Your Community

Three Keys to Powerful Writing

Two Simple Steps to Writing With Authenticity

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Published at Rosa Say’s et. al. Joyful Jubilant Learning:

How to Learn Something From Anything

What Do You See?

The L8, Gr8 Number 8

Just Hangin’ Around

A Hill o’ Beans

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Published at Liz Strauss’ Successful Blog:

Choose the Ending

Try One More Time

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Published at Vicky Hennigan’s Remarkable Parents:

Easy, Fast & Free Photo Editing

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Finally, there was this 3-part series that actually appeared in 3 different places:

Dead Ends, Part 1, published right here at Middle Zone Musings

Dead Ends, Part 2, published at Scrambled Toast

Dead Ends, Part 3, published at Confident Writing

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Whew! I had no idea it was that many! But this was a good exercise for me, anyway. Now I know where I’ve been…

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Have you ever thought to yourself, “Gee, I’d sure love to write a guest post for Middle Zone Musings”? If so, then you’re playin’ my song! (If, on the other hand, you’re thinkin’ to yourself, “Now why in tarnation would I want to do that?” then read on…)

The fact is, whether you’re a newbie or an old hand, guest posting is a great way to gain exposure (Eek! Not that kind of exposure, silly!), spread your wings, and introduce yourself to new folks. And getting to know each other is, after all, the heart and soul of social media, right?

There’s a First Time for Everything

I remember my first guest post like it was yesterday…

‘Way back when I was just a newbie, wet-behind-the-ears blogger (almost 3 years ago now – practically pre-historic times in blog years), I simply wrote about this and that; y’know, mainly just learnin’ the ropes. I found plenty of other blogs to read, began to get to know a few folks, and even started leaving comments here and there. It was a heady time – bein’ “out there” like that!

Hey, it wasn’t without its rewards. After about six months or so, I managed to pick up a grand total of about, um, 5 readers (starkly testified by that little Feedburner chiclet over there in the sidebar). Man, was I tearin’ it up, or what? Still, I have to admit to wonderin’ now and then if “this blog stuff” was worth it or not

Then one day, a fine upstanding member of my vast army of, er, fan asked me to write a guest post. Really? Me? Man, I’m tellin’ ya, it was like… well, it was like the sun rising on a cloudless morning, fresh drops of dew on a bright yellow daffodil, that morning bowl of Rice Crispies when you first pour milk over ‘em and they start to Snap, Crackle, and, y’know, Pop!

As a matter of fact, it was my Down Under friend Pete Aldin, who asked me to participate in his group writing project and submit a guest post. So I threw caution to the winds and wrote How I Won the War on That Stupid Pipe.

Actually, it was kinda fun to think, just like that, my pointless bletherings pithy prose would be seen by an entirely new group of folks. I’m tellin’ ya; I was inspired!

The Forum is OPEN!

OK, like I said up top, I’m lookin’ for folks who would like to write a post for the Middle Zone. If you’d like to be a guest writer here (or at least think you would), then I’d like to hear from you.

What do I have to do, you ask? Hey, glad you asked!

Since all we do here is tell stories “about lessons learned from life”, then all you have to do is tell a story about something you learned from… well, pretty much anything. You get to choose the topic. You can be serious or silly, prolific or pithy, ridiculous or rambunctious; it’s up to you. Also, length is not an issue, long or short.

And, although I’ll naturally screen ‘em (hey, I’m not a complete whack job), there’s pretty much only two rules here: 1) keep it rated G (ultimately, it’s determined by yours truly), and 2) be nice. As for editing, I’ll try to keep it to a minimum, and will only do it in a way that makes you look better. Promise.

If you’re interested, then let me know by sending me an email. (And if we don’t know each other yet, then by all means, introduce yourself! I promise I won’t bite. Very hard.)

Guest Posts So Far

The truth is, as much as I enjoy posting elsewhere, I truly enjoy having folks guest post here at the Middle Zone! (And it’s nice to have the occasional day off.) If you’d like to join ‘em, you’ll be in some fine company, I’ll tell ya!

Here’s a list of who’s posted here at the Zone to date:

Confessions of a PDF Addict, by Chris Garrett

What I Learned From Balloon Animals, by Karen Swim

My Slapstick Moment on the Slopes, by Brad Shorr

Obstacles in Your Path, by Joanna Young

Editorial Wisdom, by Liz Strauss

Just When They Think You’re Smart, by Brad Shorr

The Year I Learned There Really is a Santa Claus, by J. Sewell Perkins

What I Learned From Kevin Eikenberry, by Kevin Eikenberry

Why not throw caution to the winds and join ‘em? I’m waiting to hear from ya!

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Image: Keyboard – blur, by striatic

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[Warning: Lengthy post - not because I got long-winded - that sorta goes without sayin', if you get my meanin' - but because of a long image lower down in the post. Just sayin'.]

You ever get the feeling you’re bein’ watched? It’s sorta like that creepy-crawly feelin’ between the shoulder blades when nobody’s around. Like bugs crawlin’ around back there. Ick.

How about when you know you’re bein’ watched, like when you get up in front of a room filled with people?

OK, how about this one: What if you suddenly realized a whole herd o’ folks were watching your every move? Does it make you think twice about what you were about to say? Or not? Kinda makes you think, doesn’t it? Oh, sure; some folks thrive on that sortof thing. But not me – and I daresay, not most of us, either.

That thought struck me the other day (sound of dull thud), bringing back a particular memory…

It Started Out Innocently Enough

A few years back, during a regrettably long period of unemployment, I was invited to sign up for a two-week-long jobs program run by the Texas Department of Labor. (Not that I expect great things from anything the Government does, mind you; it just seemed like I wasn’t getting anywhere with the usual job-hunting methods and figured any help would be a good thing. Besides, it was free! I like free.)

Right at the beginning, folks who sat at the same table were grouped into teams. Well, it was no big deal anyway since we didn’t know each other to begin with. Interestingly enough, though, the six of us at our table somehow seemed to “mesh” almost right away, and before too long were cracking jokes and trading insights with each other like the best of friends. I guess shared trials really did help us there; we were all in the same leaky boat and lookin’ for a bucket, y’know?

Well, things went fine for the first week. At the start of the second week, though, our instructor announced that over the next couple of days we’d all be conducting mock interviews in front of a video camera, and the class would then offer (hopefully) helpful critiques.

Now at first, I must admit to feelin’ a tad nervous about that. I mean, I’d never been videotaped before (except by accident at a wedding, or something), much less done it in front of millions. (Well, maybe about 30 – but it seemed like millions!) After a few minutes discussing it with my friends at the table, I managed to put my fears back down into that little box where I usually keep ‘em.

After all, I said to myself, how bad could it be? (He said, blithely.) I mean, you sit down, answer a few questions honestly and forthrightly, maintain eye contact, smile, don’t pick yer nose – heck, I could practically do that in my sleep!

V-Day

Finally, the day came. Each interview lasted about 5 minutes; then for about 15 minutes we played the tape while different folks pointed out, um, “helpful observations”. Actually, they really were helpful. Really. It can just be a bit overwhelming when everyone is trying to, y’know, help you.

One by one, each of us did the deed. By a quirk of fate, our table was one of the last ones, so we had plenty of time to observe how the whole thing was going. In part, it helped allay some fears. Folks were actually contributing helpful advice. Of course, in part it simply caused a slow buildup of, y’know, other fears…

Again, I thought to myself, I can do this, no problem.

Finally, my turn came. I’m tellin’ ya; you’da been proud of me! On the outside I was as calm as a mountain lake. But on the inside… ah, but on inside I was just a giant bowl of shiverin’, quiverin’ jello. Nevertheless, I stood up, calmly moseyed up to the front and took a seat – then proceeded to make a total hash of the entire interview! (sound of heart dropping through my shoes)

Yep; it’s true. In fact, by the time it was over, you could hear this unbelieving hush fall across the entire room. Embarrassment seemed to reign supreme, especially on the instructor’s part as she struggled to come up with something – anything – positive to say about my abysmal performance.

I felt like a piece of greasy food left on a plate that was about to be put in the dishwasher. Or like that target they use to test the effectiveness of the blast power of a Cruise Missile. It was awful. It was humiliating. It was – well, lemme put it this way. If I’da known the deep, dark secret to becoming invisible, well, I woulda done it right then, no hesitation – publicity be hanged.

The Eyes Have It

What happened, you ask?

Well, it’s like this. I was fine until I suddenly realized how many eyes were focused right on yours truly. Eyes belonging to folks I didn’t know. I mean, I was fine when swapping lies stories, conversing and laughing with folks at my own table – you know, the ones I was comfortable with. But bein’ out there in front of all the rest of the room was quite a different story.

Wow, was that ever a fun excruciating experience! Hey, it’s tough enough discovering things about yourself you didn’t know – and aren’t necessarily proud of. But it’s a frog of an entirely different hop when it happens right there in front of God and everyone, if you get my meanin’.

As it turned out, though, I did learn a few things that actually helped me out later on. Perhaps the main one was this: never to forget your audience – and the fact that no matter what you do, you have one! In fact, as I pointed out up there at the beginning of this post, that very thought came up the other day…

Ooh, Shiney! A New Toy: Twitter Mosaic

The other day I ran across this little web-based thingie called Twitter Mosaic.

What does it do? Hey, glad you asked! When you enter your Twitter username, it makes a nice composite of your choice of either followers or friends. (Note: Still haven’t figured out how to make it show all my enemies yet. Might be a handy thing to keep around… But I digress.)

Anyhoo, I have about 675 Twitter followers (give or take, depending on time of day, current season, and that particular day’s hat size). After deleting avatars that are obviously businesses, and turning it into an image (actually 6 separate images since it was so long) this is what the mosaic looks like (and I have no idea why they end up in the order they appear here):

Wow! Now that’s really sumpin’, y’all! Not only does it create a really cool image, but that’s quite a lotta folks, y’know? And to think I hardly have any followers compared to some.

Just think – all those folks are… uh… hmmm… well… Eek! They’re watchin’ everything I say! (suddenly jumps up and runs screaming from the keyboard)

Is it Gettin’ Hot in Here, or is it Just Me?

Now, why do I suddenly feel so very self-concious? I mean, it’s not like there’s any difference in now versus, say, 10 minutes ago, right? Not really. But the very idea that so many folks (potentially at least) are able to read my words (and slice and dice ‘em  too, should they feel so inclined)… well, it’s kinda sobering, for want of a better term.

I mean, like most folks, there’s a much smaller group I regularly communicate with, via blogs, comments, tweets, etc. They’re like those folks at my table – we laugh at each other’s jokes (and groan at the boners), edify each other, encourage each other to no end. But all those others – it’s like bein’ suddenly transported back to that chair in front of the video camera.

Uh, wow.

Oh, I’m sure a lot of those followers are simply there for numbers; hey, it’s a fact of life. Honestly, I don’t begrudge them that. The truth is, you get out of it what you put into it, y’know? But still, the idea that so many people can see every word I write does kinda make it a little more real, y’know? And, just for a brief moment, I had a flashback of that horrible feeling I had back in that workshop. But only for a moment.

I’ll tell ya; it should be a wake-up call for all of us, though. After all, the things we say out loud here on the Internet really are out there for all to see. And, like it or not, your words have power. Power to build, or power to destroy; power to obfuscate, or power to enlighten – hey, it’s up to you.

As that great American Philosopher Obi-wan Kenobi once said, “Choose wisely…”

Let’s Bring it Home

Now, lest you think I done forgot to bring this baby home (and thereby lettin’ you off the hook), let’s make this real and personal, shall we?

The fact is, whether you have a lot of followers or just a few, there are folks out there who actually read, think about, and yes, Virginia, sometimes even respond to your words. Now, knowing that to be true, does that:

1. Scare you to death, giving you a bad case of the heebie-jeebies every time you sit at the keyboard
2. Excite you beyond words and you just can’t keep it in any more but have to get what’s on your mind OUT THERE
3. Make you yawn because you don’t really think about it much, and hey, what I have to say doesn’t really matter all that much

OK, I made the choices extreme on purpose. Nevertheless (would a word like that fit the definition of “mashup”? uh, never mind) which continuum do you lean toward, and how does it affect what you do (and perhaps more importantly, say) on the web?

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Photo: Watched 2, by 35mm fanboy

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