Occasionally, I bring my work hat to Freesia Lane. I am in marketing, where social media plays a large role in our day. This posted on Blue Shoe Strategy’s blog this morning. I know most of you are on Facebook. Thought you might find it relevant. Christine
An excellent piece by Jenna Wortham ran in the The New York Times today, Facebook’s Existential Crisis. She challenges the worth of the content of Facebook, its relevance to our lives, and marvels that the numbers are rising in usage while offering less worthy information. She mentions that others she talks to agree with her; Facebook has become boring. Unfortunately, she places the blame and responsibility for changing her sad state on Facebook. Typical.
Jenna Wortham appears quite young when I Google her in Google Images. And, like others in her generation, she places the blame for her Facebook life of quiet desperation on someone other than herself. Facebook isn’t the culprit in her lackluster Facebook life; she and her friends are. Facebook doesn’t provide content. Facebook presents the content you provide. The responsibility for the poor quality of what we have to read when we spend an average of 34 minutes a day on the page lies with those who are on on Facebook. Yep, it’s not the ‘parent’ at fault, but the Facebook participants not recognizing the power they have individually in the make up of their Facebook content. Facebook is not like watching a T.V. show where the fabulous Shonda Rimes has decided what we see and the messages it sends to our subliminal minds about who we are. Facebook is one of the few places we get to go to receive information where we decide what we see (who you follow, what pages you ‘like’), when we see it, and how much time we spend commenting or digging deeper into it. It’s the ultimate in free speech. It’s the ultimate newspaper self designed to provide information on that which you decide is important to you. And the way in which you yourself participate will determine the worth of what you – and those that follow you – get out of it.
Just as in life outside the computer screen, we are who we surround ourselves with. Facebook is the disseminator of our messages. So, Jenna, you and your friends need to take responsibility for your own boredom. Get rid of those and that which bore you on your Facebook feed. I have unfriended those that I know provide me with the downer of the day that might not lift me to my greatest heights. I work very hard to provide content on my feed that is relevant to my friends and family. And, I read a variety of pages that inform me, including those that annoy me. (Can I mention Fox News here?) I want to be informed and I take responsibility for that which goes through my brain in the precious time I spend on Facebook.
So, ask not what content Facebook is providing you, but rather, what content you are providing Facebook?
Now I get it. Now it all makes sense. Draft Day explains it all. The excitement of Draft Day and the intrigue behind the scenes of one of the biggest days in football; the day the college kids get drafted to play for the NFL big boys. Best of all is that Ali, played in her usual feminine, strong-without-cutting-off-his-balls style by our favorite Girl Next Door, Jennifer Garner, is not sacrificed in any way by
Did I ever mention I had a party once and no one came?
H2 (Husband #2) and I had a lovely home on the beach in the Hamptons. He still has the home, but trust me, it really always belonged to him. We decided to have a beach party with lobsters, a steel band, and various other costly things to entertain one hundred plus of our nearest and dearest friends. It was going to become
We’re losing Letterman. Oh my. Let me begin by saying that the pundits need to stop referring to Letterman’s show in the past tense. He hasn’t gone yet. He’s here for another year, or perhaps even a bit longer. Get a grip. Sheesh.
Moving on to my point (it’s sometimes so hard to get there). In the interest of full disclosure I should say I now TIVO both Letterman and Jimmy Fallon. I keep saying
Sit down Freesia Laners. This one may take a while.
I moved to Cape Cod a few years ago from Los Angeles, where I had health care through an employer. Getting a primary care physician on Cape Cod isn’t easy; they just don’t seem to want to live here. So when my mom died I called her primary care physician, who said she wasn’t taking new patients. I pointed out that my mom’s passing had
I want to be that woman who cares as much about a lipstick’s name as its color. I do. Ok, truth be told, I want to be that woman who actually cares about her lipstick and doesn’t have the same one for a year because she rarely puts it on.
I recently attended a writing workshop, and the person leading asked everyone a question or two. And it wasn’t a small group either, so I
When we look at what my generation (I’m 61 and proud of it) and what we are passing on to the next generation, I think we can all agree we haven’t exactly excelled at improving the landscape of American lives. We brought you fast food. Ridiculous politicians. Global warming. Oh my, need I go on? I do often wake up in the night and wonder why I didn’t protest more. March on Washington against fast
I have written about my fear of flying before, so it won’t surprise you that I’m consumed with this most recent plane crash.
I spent a number of hours trying to determine what happened to Malaysia Air flight #370. Since I have no understanding of how planes stay in the air (and to be honest, I had to look up Vietnam’s geographical relationship to China to determine how far out over the water the plane
I was recently unfriended by a classmate from high school. I didn’t hang out with her in high school, and I am sure we wouldn’t hang together now, but she was in my Facebook footprint because our whole class seems to be in touch with one another’s lives, and I like that.
This person was — and is today — the goody two-shoes type. You know the one. Always looked put together. Everything she posts
They should take away my right to vote. I’m not kidding. After this Chris Christie thing, I have decided that I may be the worst possible judge of political character among people who read just enough to be dangerous in politics.
Chris Christie broke my heart. I really thought he might be the one. The politician who said what he really thought, did what was best for his peeps, and was willing to cross political