So…this weekend…watched a lot of Walter Cronkite death coverage, in which it was obvious that the standards of TV journalism have eroded significantly since Cronkite signed off back in 1981.
I watched a lot of the British Open, hoping Tom Watson would pull off a miraculous feat only to see if come up achingly short.
I decided I didn’t like Stewart Cink simply because he has 500,000 Twitter followers. Several on-air referred to him as “one of the good guys” out there, but it just seems like anyone who is not The President, The Pope, or Someone Curing Cancer (let alone someone who hadn’t won a tournament until today) doesn’t warrant 500,000 “followers”.
It’s strange, because I think I discovered Twitter rather earlier, but it kinda made me queasy early on for many reasons, and then I’ve barely been on it over the past year or so, and it’s exploded in relevance.
I have found, particularly, with politicians and newspeople, that Twitterers embarrass themselves more often than they impress. I expect athletes and celebrities to make asses of themselves, because they’re not famous for their minds and communication skills.
Anyway…this weekend, I also got sucked into Mafia Wars on Facebook. Like many internet fads, I think I’ll probably be over it rather quickly. I have a feeling that the friend who recruited me was starting to feel limited by the size of his “Mafia family” (number of Facebook friends playing Mafia Wars), and that I’ll run into the same problem soon enough. For the longest time, I never thought I’d wade into one of the Facebook time-wasters that I see on other people’s profiles, but I did it this week. And I get it…