It's 2:27 am. The baby isn't awake. Why am I?
The glow from the iPhone screen bathes silhouettes in an eerie Anime style. Contrasting the contours of the room. Some items recede into the darkness while the corners are pronounced along with the lines of my hand and forearm that are extended, holding it.
Avatars scroll in a vertical manner, accompanied by 140 character or less stories of what is happening RIGHT NOW. Each one more important than the last.
We are our own news sources...
Avatars don't always match the story. The 20 something young girl making kissy face while taking her own picture appears not only attractive, but as if life will always be great. But her 140 character or less story contradicts that image. The guy standing, basking in the love of the sun with arms outstretched and eyes closed, obviously posing for the cover of the movie he is living in his head, seems to embody the perfect life, where there are no dishes in the sink and the laundry is always done, is stressing over some work related issue. Meanwhile, the black and white, highly contrasted image that evokes the Crow and all things Goth, has just announced an engagement.
All these things seem to clash at 2:36 in the a.m.
SO why am I up? Why is there a vampire outside of my window? Why are we, the chosen few, cursed with thoughts racing so fast that our eyes have to open to avoid a ticket, blessed with sleeplessness.
Friendster conceded to MySpace conceded to Facebook conceded to Twitter. Social networking is the dagger in the heart of traditional media, which can only try to contend with the up to the second update world we have come to live in. Media is murdering media. And it doesn't even know it. News channels and radio stations report events 12 hours or more after the entire world has heard about them. As the world has grown larger and larger it has somehow managed to make itself smaller in an imploding manner.
It's now 3:43 am. The baby just woke up. She said she had to "pee pee". That is breaking news. Heard here first. That is the life of the Stay At Home Rock Star. Yesterday I played for countless people on a large stage and later on a smaller, more intimate setting in two different parts of town. At the smaller venue, I began playing a Dave Matthews Band song, "Crash Into Me", which I learned for a wedding a few days before. The girl behind the bar was in love with the song and said it evoked memories of 8th grade for her. How old am I??? That was followed by the search for food for my wife and followed by the Family Guy Volume 8. Followed by waking up while those in the Twitterverse are just signing off of their perspective channels.
While emptying the little potty I had the thought- "why go to school and study journalism, graduate, search for a position at a news source. Possibly intern and try to become a correspondent and finally move your way up to the news desk as an anchor? Why try to get your own radio show when you can create it instantly online. Just let everyone you know hear about it and slowly build a following. Why? When you can be the next "Shit My Dad Says"? Let's not pretend that we don't all have some parental figure in our lives that says wacky stuff. This guy was just the first to put it out there. As Friendster conceded to Myspace conceded to Facebook conceded to Twitter (which now seems to be getting competition from 4square), "Shit My Dad Says" will be dethroned by a multitude of one uppers from basements and attics across the country, 140 characters or less at a time.
It's 3:54 a.m.