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The more I think about it, Facebook is making us even more socially retarded than ever.
It started a while ago – before my time – when TV was invented. Apparently before that, according to my parents (they know because TV arrived in South Africa later than anywhere else) people used to sit around and talk, play games and even read books.
I don’t believe it for a second, but I’m not arguing.
Time went on, leaving by teenagers with their own telephones and even the popularity of the interwebs and instant messaging.
The real revolution (OMG IMHO) started with text messages. The second that very first 160 character message was sent, we became idiots.
The 2 trillion in number a year was just the start, though. While it was all fun and games sending plain messages to each other all day (or in the case of a California girl, 14,000 in one month) we needed more.
So along came Tom and created MySpace with all it’s networking abilities. It wasn’t a new idea and still badly designed in my opinion, but millions connected very quickly. Put it this way, the day your company becomes a verb, you know you have done well.
The latest incarnation is of course Facebook, where you probably were just before clicking a link to this article. It’s something that has moved beyond social networking.
A few years ago, the IT students of the world were discussing data mining, profiling and privacy. We lost that fight a lot sooner than we thought, in fact we embraced it.
Have you ever wondered why the ads on Facebook just seem perfect for you? That’s because everything you do everyday is now known to someone. Third party applications, your friends and friends of friends.
I find it disconcerting that since adding pictures of my new puppy a week ago I have had pet training, pet food and pet relocation services on my left sidebar every time I log in. But what can you do.
And there’s an even darker side – a man killed his wife recently because she changed her status to single from married. I suppose he should have sent her more gifts, or pokes.
But as I said, we have embraced it. If you don’t update your status at least once a day, comment on a few friends pictures and participate in at least one argument discussion ever few days you’re just not with it.
Not being online means your are an outsider, the ultimate laggard – imagine being 20 in the early 70’s and not having a mustache.
And just ask Prince Harry, he even just found out about his girlfriends plans to finally never get back together with him “Relationship: None”. If it’s good enough for the third in line to the throne it’s good enough for me.
Yesterday I received my new equipment, an intervalometer (it’s a word), a neutral density filter and a brand new battery pack for my Canon dSLR.
The interval-thingy basically allows me to set up any kind of time frame with intervals and exposure delays. I set it up for an infinite amount of pictures with an interval of 20 seconds (second half of the movie I dropped it down to 10 seconds to get the slow-down effect). The shutter speed was relatively normal, 1/25 of a second as clouds don’t really move THAT quickly. I will experiment with much slower shutter speeds at night sometime.
Now I know this is a cheesy one to start with, but I had an hour lunch-break and an open window right next to me.
I managed to get around 150 pictures, I removed one or two that had a flock of birds in them to avoid blips, but that also caused some jumping of the video – so I realised there’s an element of luck in this as well.
I used Quicktime 7 Pro to create a movie from an image sequence, and set that to 15fps. I’ll add a soundtrack to the next ones as they get longer and a little more elaborate.
The outcome was better than I expected – I didn’t realise the amount of movement clouds make on a regular day in a relatively short amount of time. You can see the video slow down dramatically after a few seconds as I shortened the interval between frames (but kept the playback frame rate the same). This was just for me to get an idea of what different intervals will produce at 15fps, a good reference point for me to work on.
And here we go, attempt number 1 – look out for more.
We participated in a photography scavenger hunt this weekend. Very simple, 18 categories – take a picture of each one and load them online. The idea was not to get the best technical photo, but rather the most creative and subjective.
Considering we treated it as a full on competition with a major prize (it was nothing of the sort) we got these all done in about three hours and half a tank of gas.
Here’s my favourite :
Dramatic Shadow
Romina took this one, “world as seen by a squirrel”
I have figured out one downfall to moving around too much. After three countries in seven years, and numerous residences along the way, the size of my social posse has taken a serious beating.
And this is not a whining session that a mother would hear from an pre-teen geek who has no friends. No, I’ve always kept a small number of friends close to me at any one time – some are here, some are there and separation talks are still underway with one or two of them.
I’m trying my best to be diplomatic and not insult anyone – so if you’re reading this and questioning anything, don’t worry – you’re in the inner circle.
What we (and that’s my wife and I – I’m not royalty yet) are missing are those type of acquaintances who are not quite best friends, but also not just drinking buddies. And we realise it more and more as out birthdays come around. They used to be big affairs for me, with everyone from work to old school friends arriving – now I’m thinking of a quiet dinner with two or three bottles of wine for everyone to share (and without a funnel).
The traditional way to meet these types of friends are through work and university, simple as that. An old boss once told me that over a beer one Friday afternoon – and even though I would rather never speak to him again, he was absolutely right.
So there’s our problem, school is long over, so scratch that idea. I work from home with no physical office to go to and my wife works just for her boss so not many options there. So let me make some more excuses.
Now without getting into a discussion over cultural differences, I have to admit that we really have found it difficult finding other people with the same mentality as us. Part of the problem, in my opinion, is that we live in a University/Tourist area. And as we don’t go out looking for bargains on beer at seedy bars or necessarily enjoy seeing Mickey Mouse every day, we either need to adjust our thoughts or look harder.
Plan “B” would be to meet friends of friends, but with just a very small group to start – the process is a little slow.
Another option we explored was getting to know other young married couples.
This is where it get’s weird. Other couples would be the best option to grow our social circle, we automatically have something in common, but as my cousin-in-law says, “it’s just like dating”. There’s too much to take into account. That’s four people to make happy, things to do, places to go – and all the while trying not to come across as swingers.
And we have to be picky. Couples must be serious enough, we don’t want them breaking up and leaving us to choose who to keep later down the line.
The next step then is to just get out there, and we have joined groups relating to our interests. Photography sessions here and there, hiking once in a while and the occasional wine tasting. That’s when we figured out it’s not so much a problem of meeting people and making new friends – it’s just the change in lifestyle that we are going through together.
Either that or we’ve lost our social appeal and are destined to spend weekends with our dog until we have kids and start attending soccer games and practices three times a week.
There was a stage in my life when I didn’t think I would ever be writing these words. I thought it would be difficult to write, or even worse, that you would be right there next to me keeping me distracted – maybe to the end.
This is my final goodbye.
I still remember when we met, many years ago when you had your tentacles wrapped around every adult in my family. Those were different times, people liked having you around. You showed up before dinner, after dinner and even sat next to me on the way to school in the mornings.
I tried to ignore you and your games, I wasn’t even allowed to talk to you, even though I saw you everyday. But you intrigued me, you were always a part of my life, and so grown up and mature. You represented the good times, enjoyment and success. Everyone said so, all the time.
But then you became destructive. Heart attacks, cancer and strokes – you started taking away the ones I loved.
Almost everyone I knew who had any contact with you had shunned you, and I started forgetting, but never stopped hating.
You are a smart one, though, a true magician and master of disguise and as I grew up you changed your form. It was no longer the images of adventures in the snow or the rugged outdoors. You graduated to the night life, and were surrounded by music and drinking.
Before I knew it, your curse had resurfaced.
My first taste wasn’t even real, I was just pretending to like you for the sake of my friends and my insecurity. That was my first mistake. My second was telling myself that one or two a night was alright. After a few months, you were costing me more than money.
I saw you everyday, every hour of every day. You woke me up early and pretended to comfort me while I stood on the cold balcony. You left your stench everywhere I went, from my car to my office. Your infection had grown to the point where I was no longer in control.
And you stayed, even though I tried to get rid of you, time after time. I thought that slowly cutting down our time together would work, but you were happy with that because you knew you still had the control.
Until now. I have been building up my strenth. You might have thought that I have just been too busy too see you over the past few weeks. Or maybe you thought I was just on another crazy exercise regime.
The reality is, I have made up my mind. I feel good now. I’m running faster and I’m running longer, I wake up in the morning without your disgusting taste in my mouth and to top it off I’m saving money.
Please don’t get a big head about this letter, it’s not intended for you, besides you never had any power other than taking advantage of my weaknesses.
This is my affirmation, my reality, and you are no longer a part of it.
Speaking of baseball, I saw my first game on the weekend of 4th July. What better to celebrate Independance Day than with hotdogs, beer and America’s favo(u)rite pasttime.
I wish I could start off by saying that everything you see on TV and the movies is entirely untrue, but I can’t. It is exactly what I expected.
Let me start at the beginning, though.
4th of July is, of course, a pretty big deal here – and this year a long weekend. So I suprised my wife with a weekend away in Tampa. Beautiful place, lot’s of beaches, little old towns dotted around and … trailer parks.
I suppose if you are going to live in a mobile home and pay nominal taxes, why not live in perpetual summer.
The weekend really was great, we went out the first night to a few clubs/bars in an part of Tampa called Ybor City. It’s much like you’d expect from New Orleans, with double story buildings with balconies lining the streets and the sound of festivities (drunk college girls) echoing from every open door.
The next day was beach day, and the big holiday. So we waited in traffic for two hours to spend another two hours on the most packed beach I have ever been on.
Done, and out of the way.
The final day, as we drove out of Tampa and towards our last stop – a quaint little town called Tarpon Springs, the most Greek populated city in the US – we saw a dome shaped stadium. The radio was on a shitty talk station and they were advertising the game that night – Tampa Bay Ray’s vs. Kansas City Royals.
So we decided to call and book two tickets. Who ever doubted my spontanaeity.
The game started at 7:10pm so we arrived at 5pm.
Parking was a cinch, mainly because events like this are well organised. The police are out, parking attendants aren’t trying to get money out of you and there are no taxis.
I always get excited at sports stadiums, no matter the sport. I love the size, the atmosphere, all of it.
And what a warm reception at this one.
It’s an indoor arena, totally covered with an unvelievably high roof. In the lobby there are restaurants, beer stands, souveneirs – and of course rows and rows of urinals – heaven. And like I said, it’s exactly what you’d expect. Fans running around in supporting jerseys, kids and adults alike with their gloves hoping to catch a long hit ball and the ever present mullet-guy hanging out at the bar.
So we found our seats, got some beer, ate some hotdogs and repeated the process a few times before the first pitch.
The national anthem was sung by some ex-army-cum-navy captain or something. He was pretty good, and I’m starting to love the patriotism here (did I just say that?).
And then the first pitch. Now comes the action. No it doesn’t!
It’s just like cricket, boring as hell – and somehow the uniforms are designed to make their wearers just a little more homosexual – it really is possible.
And like cricket, it’s not about the game, at all. The atmosphere and singing and occasional great play (which can be watched on the huge screen a few times after it actually took place) make up for it all.
Being the paranoid South African, we left a little early and got onto the road before traffic.
I still can’t believe they wear gloves to catch the ball.
Not that I’m going all chick on everyone, but I’m just feeling heavy now, heavier than I used to be. I know the causes as well.
Number 1 – the American diet stinks. It’s difficult (and expensive) to buy fresh food, plus it’s a lot easier to make a bowl of pasta at night instead of a fresh grilled salmon.
Number 2 – I’ve been married for four months. Even though my wife and I exercise together every week, I don’t have the same drive as I did when I was single to look my best. Something about regular sex does that to you.
Number 3 – I work at home, so I don’t even get my standard walk to the car twice a day. My morning commute consists of rolling out of bed and walking twenty steps to my office. That’s forty steps a day, only 9960 to go!
It only took three months in America to put on around 10kgs. I stopped exercising before and after my move, mainly due to stress and lack of a gym contract. Then I got into the lifestyle here. Before I knew it, it was too late, and I have been maintaining that weight ever since.
Now I’m n0-where near the levels where I should really worry about health problems, this is all aesthetic. My BMI is around 26, which is just over the limit but my fitness is still there. I even play volleyball two or three times a week.
I’m really not getting to a point with this either – I just wanted to put a virtual peg in the ground because today is the day I start my (strict) exercise and eating regime.
In ten minutes I will be running 5 miles on the treadmill. That will happen every work day during lunch. Three days a week after work I will be doing resistance training. One work night and one weekend day, I’ll be on the sand destroying my knees – but at least enjoying it.
So there, I’ve said it, can’t back out now.
