Here’s the life-cycle of my usual relationship with a new platform of social media: contempt, disgust and distrust at first, lasting a year or so, followed by several years of proud neglect, followed by begrudged acceptance, followed by curiosity, followed by my eventual embrace, followed by pathetic addiction. This is the way it was with me and cell phones, way back in the day. This is what happened between me and Facebook. I’m always years late to the party. I remember a line in Brian Morton’s novel A Window Across the River, which was set in the late 90s (I’m paraphrasing from memory): “It was the edge of a moment in history; a few years ago, it seemed pretentious to have a cell phone, and in another few years it would seem pretentious not to.” Anyway, that’s me: I’m the kind of Luddite dickwad who obstinately bucks against things like Facebook and Twitter until time flows by around me and I’m left standing there looking pretentious.
Last night I met up with my friends and fellow former Iowaites Stuart Nadler and Ted Thompson (who both, by the way, have books coming out soon from Little, Brown — buy them and read them when they come!) at a reading at Book Court (where I’ll be reading next week) by Emma Straub. Anyway — the place was packed to the gills, and afterward I was party to a long conversation about the power of Twitter. So I thought, okay, it’s probably a good idea to, in the year 2011, pull my nose out of my ass and get on Twitter. So I’m establishing a new personal resolution: to Tweet more. So please: follow me on Twitter.