Antisocial (Warning: RANT)

Ever since Google Buzz was released last week, my frustration with the social networking landscape has had me sketching on the shower walls and scribbling on scraps of paper trying to make sense of my online world. This morning’s shower insight calmed me a bit. Just as I don’t hang out in every physical venue that I might, or go to every networking event that I could, perhaps I shouldn’t be so bothered by the multiple, disjoint conversations that spring up on the same online article or post. Just because I have a conversation with some friends on Monday about the rogue wave that hit spectators during Mavericks doesn’t mean my colleagues need to become part of that same stream on Tuesday when we discuss the same topic. Similarly, if I comment on someone’s blog but I miss the insightful commentary taking place about it on Buzz, who cares? And if my brilliant observation on Facebook is invisible to my followers on Twitter, who cares?

Clearly I care, otherwise I wouldn’t be ranting. I care because we have the potential to facilitate broader conversations, increase understanding, and ease discovery. I care because I’d like to have one coherent online presence from where anyone could subscribe to any public feed that I generate – feeds that would include not only content I generate, but commentary I make. I’d like the industry to stop building over-featured gated communities, lean into the issues of identity, trust, and interaction, and foster an ecosystem of tools that set us free instead of tying us in knots. I think anything short of that is antisocial.

Update: Join the conversation over on Buzz. See, you'd never have known it was there if I hadn't told you! Argh!

Photo Friday: Romeo's Pier, near Pillar Point

I love the marsh inside the breakwater near Pillar Point. There's a peacefulness on foggy days that seeps into my soul. The aging structure of the pier seems to be returning to the source of all things, as moss covers the roof, paint flakes and fades away, and the gulls claim it as their own.

http://tinyurl.com/ycwek73

Blue Light Special

He was laying in a grassy strip between the road and a KMart parking lot in Trenton, New Jersey. At first glance, he looked like a big black trash bag flapping in the breeze. Hubby said, "Hey, that's a dog!" and made a quick u-turn on busy Kuser Rd. By the time we reached him, another passerby was offering him a plate of kibble, but keeping her distance in case he wasn't friendly. Hubby never has had much sense about approaching strange dogs and took the kibble right up to the pooch. He was hungry, friendly, and just plain tired. We lured him away from the busy street back to our car and awaited animal control.

He was a sweet dog of unknown breed, furry but well-groomed, clearly someone's special friend. I patted the backseat and he joyfully jumped right in. What was he doing out here by himself? He wore a chain collar without tags, so no help there. Surely his people were looking for him, and the best thing was to park him at the local pound where he'd be quickly and easily found.

Another side of this dog emerged when the animal control officer arrived. No dummy, the dog knew he had it good in the backseat of our car and had no intention of leaving. The animal control officer had no intention of risking a bite and no desire to spend any more time than necessary coralling this dog. When the loop of the officer's catch pole tightened around his neck, the dog turned into a snarling beast, to no avail. Into the truck he went. The officer informed us that he'd be kept for 8 days. If he wasn't claimed by then, he'd be killed.

At that moment, I wasn't concerned about the dog's fate. He was well cared for and well behaved. Surely, even now, his person was beating the bushes to find him. We helped the process along by putting an ad in the local paper and by posting flyers everywhere possible within about a 2 mile radius of the KMart where we found him. He'd be claimed in short order, I was certain.

Hubby called the pound every day, expecting to hear that the pooch had been reunited with his happy family. It was not to be. On the eighth day, Hubby took the drive back to New Jersey and brought this strange dog to his new home with us in Pennsylvania, taking his place in our furry family with new sister Fred, our husky-lab, and three cats. He was thrilled. Fred and the cats were not. Everyone adjusted- eventually.

Adopting an unknown stray presents an interesting challenge. What was the dog's name? We tried many of the obvious- Bear, Buddy, Rex, Fido -without a glimmer of recognition. Calling a dog without a name is problematic, so we had to choose a new name for him.

We named him 'Blue'.