I was sitting in my office with the late afternoon light cutting through the dust particles in the air, reminding me of when I was a kid, or contemplating the world, like when I was in college. Another story for another time.
Anyway, I was sitting in my office chair — the one with the rollers on the bottom that made me feel like a podiatrist in an infantry unit. Back and forth and back forth. Finally I settled, flipped open my laptop, like a private eye slapping open the cylinder of his .38 and I started looking for a site. And there — hiding behind assorted posts was Mashable.
Hmmmmm, I thought. People had mentioned it in this high-falutin Social Media Marketing Class I’ve been taking. I signed on. Big mistake.
Mashable tweets attacked my Twitter account like piranha on a fat man. They were everywhere. Five, ten, fifteen at a time blocking information I might want from a modest local vendor. From IPads to American Horror Story, to everything in between, @mashable was about the most intrusive, unrelenting, and pervasive site I have had the displeasure to use. The benignity of social media was destroyed for me.
Content? Oh there was plenty of it. The tweets seem to be a dump from mashable.com with no rhyme or reason. Just a bad, bad deal. Too much, too fast, too careless.
I was swimming in a sea of Mashables. I felt like a fisherman whose hip boots were filling with water and a log was floating down stream ready strike, but there was nowhere to go. Finally I summoned the courage to pull the plug on the out of control social megalomania, in favor of an old friend — the Delaware National Guard
So there I was, like a high school freshmen working up the courage to call that sophomore you took out once because she felt sorry for you. Would it be another waste of time; or would I be surprised? I put the mouse pointer oover @DelawareNG, held my breath, shut my eyes, and clicked. And there it was; arms open with just enough information to keep me enticed. Not too much, not too little — just right.
The Delaware National Guard (Army and Air) sends out two or three tweets a day. Some are links to pictures, some important updates, others are feel good stories of people returning home from some “who knows where,” others are promotions. The link to the home page takes you to a system of pull down menus of information you want, not an overwhelming assault you have to wade through.
So the light ebbed in my small office and the dust particles disappeared, like so many mashable tweets that were too numerous to tickle a fancy, and in the soft glow of my laptop the Delaware National Guard Called me back for one more peek.