Category Archives: THINK

the social network

Crawling out of a two year hermit mode.

FaceBook got on my shitlist there for a while and I put it in timeout. I knew it all along but only recently came to accept that holding an entity in contempt is really silly…. Wasn’t it a line from Family Guy?

“… and remember kids! Guns don’t kill people, dangerous minorities do!”
“Remember kids… FaceBook doesn’t destroy relationships… Emotional vampires, narcissists, predators and the emotionally immature do!”

I’ve gotten pretty decent at crafting my own reality – my virtuality shouldn’t be any different right? … well… in theory.

So I turned FB back on… and now trying to figure out the rest of these damn social networking sites I’m half-ass on all fit together.

Thinking too much? – yup… This is the kinda crap that wakes me up in the morning over coffee.

Not represented in the working diagram is LiveJournal – which I don’t want to get rid of because it’s great for discussion… But not everything I throw into here needs, warrants or welcomes commentary.

Discussion on WordPress seems to just get me dozens of Russian Spam comments daily – so I’ve globally disabled commenting on there.

Still don’t really know what to do about Tumblr…. All the cool kids are doing it… but…

I’ve never been one of the cool kids….

just one of the strange ones.


Congratulations. You were resourceful enough to come here to find answers.

I joined FaceBook in 2005 at the behest of my employer at the time to evaluate its marketing potential since it was “what all the kids were doing”.

My account would sit dormant until January 2009 when the site’s popularity exploded along with my email in-box pinging hourly …  “so and so wants to be friends on FaceBook.”

People from high school. People from college. People I’ve had sex with. People I’ve worked with… all of them crawling out of the virtual woodwork… plus scads of folks I didn’t even know.

The language “wants to be friends with you” – is deceiving. Just reading those words makes you feel a little rush because (at least if you’re over the age of say 30) they mean something entirely different. “Wants to be friends” is more special than “wants to look at your pictures / activities and participate in a public commentary about it all.”

The champions of Social Media tout this technology as pushing the culture ahead and bringing people closer together. I don’t know if I agree with that assertion.

I was once a prolific blogger… I may be once again.

Unlike blogging – which requires a degree of contemplation… of construction… of intent….  FaceBook makes throwing your thoughts into the public seductively fast and easy. Whether it’s about the bacon sandwich you just ate or the frightening fashion sense of the girl in front of you in line at the bank.

This mindless free-for-all creates a constant stream of what is by definition: “petty”… and by deduction: “pure narcissism fuel”.

Like america’s addiction to reality television. The human drama is the salty sweet for our monkey minds… It *is* irresistible. The full blooded as well as armchair narcissists out there know this likely on subconcious level.

I’ve wrestled with why this is… If I’m talking on the phone with a friend and I tell them about the bacon sandwich I had for lunch – it isn’t (or at least doesn’t feel) petty or narcissistic.

The only thing I could come up with is the concept of publicly airing trivial personal information *and* allowing for commentary. It just seems to bait the worst of human nature and creates a playground for vultures, stalkers, predators and psychic vampires. The vaudevillian term Peanut Gallery suddenly has a new, highly relevant meaning.

I met one of the greatest loves of my life via the social network giant… The fledgling relationship would eventually de-rez along with my heart – not “because” of Facebook – but it definitely played a roll.  The ongoing drama between myself and this would-be soulmate played out like a cheap soap opera of status updates for The Peanut Gallery to feast upon… adding static, distortion and confusion to an already challenging set of circumstances.

I never dated in high school… Now I know why. FaceBook is still very much still… “what the kids are doing” – and that’s why I’ve stepped back from it. I’ll likely re-activate my account in the future… but not until I gain a higher perspective on the whole lot.

I’ve got a bunch of grown-up stuff on my plate… as well as a bacon sandwich. If you’re in my life, pick up the phone and call me… or send me a text message! I’d love to talk with you. If you’ve come round to feast on my misery, try to get into my pants or take something precious from me – move along – this kitchen is closed.

father of the bride

One morning in the sauna after working out my gym partner Q was worrying about what he was going to say at his daughter’s upcoming wedding. I told him I’d take a whack at it for him.


Hello everyone….

Iʼd like to thank you all for coming and helping us celebrate this special day.

My name is Quenton Schott… Iʼm half of the team responsible for the beautiful woman you see sitting here at the table. **gesture to Jenny**

The only honor greater than being able to stand before you here today was the privilege of raising such an incredible person.

Jennyʼs been a chronic achiever all her life…. whether it was being a straight-A student, or her involvement in drama, choir and community service.

This track record supports my belief that this new chapter in her life and her choice to share it with such a fine young man such as Rick will bring her the same level of success and gratification sheʼs already accustom to.

So, for the customary advice part of the father of the bride speech Iʼd like to say a little something about The Curve. Now those of you that know me know,… and those who meet me quickly figure out,… Iʼm a bit of a baseball freak.

**pause for chuckles / laughs**

If youʼre bracing for a baseball metaphor… Relax. Iʼm not talking about one of Grover Clevelandʼs famous curve balls… or like the one (player name) threw striking out (player name) in the (name of series). **interrupt self**

Wait – I said no baseball metaphors!

**pause for chuckles / laughs**

No… Iʼm talking about the curve inherent in all things. The trajectory between two points… specifically beginning **gesture with left hand** and end. **gesture with right hand**

Styles, trends, TV shows, political movements, relationships, our very lives…. All have a beginning, an ascension to a crest and an decent to inevitable end.

This curve can take on all sorts of shapes… Some are just a short spike from beginning to end, others build to a sustained summit which lasts for a long time before finally dropping off.

These curves,… YOUR CURVE is shaped by all sorts of things. Some of which are completely out of our control.

Changing tastes, perspective shifts, accidents, discoveries, tragedies,… death itself.

Too many of us ride this curve completely preoccupied with, and fearing, the end. While others dwell on the path behind them.

You know THAT type… they tend to be old-farts like me and usually start every conversation with grousing openers like “Remember When?!?”

**pause for commiseration reaction**

While thereʼs absolutely nothing wrong with nostalgia or looking forward to the future. Donʼt forget to stop and enjoy where youʼre at on YOUR curve….

All we truly have is the right here, the right now… and each-other.

Rick -n- Jenny… Tonight weʼre here to celebrate a new curve… Yours together as husband and wife.

So letʼs get started!

My friends…

**pick up and raise your glass**

Please join me in a toast…

To Tom and Jenny… May your curve together last as long as you walk this earth…. but more importantly…. enjoy every moment of the ride.

**look at Jenny**

I love you Jenny.


green junk

I wonder how many resources are required for one, unsolicited direct-mail piece from The Sierra Club, America’s oldest, largest, and most influential grassroots environmental organization.

PS: I bet that membership bait (official Sierra Club rucksack) is made in some Chinese sweatshop… because the fair-trade organic hemp, blessed by baby angels, woven version would be entirely too much per-unit to go throwing out to any schmuck that sent in twenty-five bucks.

I’m just sayin…