As a life-long procrastinator, it’s no surprise that I waited until I was 52 to have my first mid-life crisis.
I was zooming down the Maricopa Freeway at 70 mph when it occurred to me that I was 18 short years away from *being* seventy. Huge milestone birthdays were nothing compared to the years I was racking up on my personal odometer, with no way to roll them back.
I decided then that the key to staying young would be stuff like eating fiber, and getting exercise more involved than looking for the Nutter Butters hidden in the pantry, and staying on top of technology.
I can see technology whizzing past me all the time, like billboards flashing by on that freeway: Snapchat and Vine and Instagram and all the rest. (I am now informed that Instagram is considered “old school,” which makes me “fossil school.”) Quite frankly, I don’t always get it.
But I know that if I ever look at a new operating system or software or app and utter the words, “That’s too complicated, I don’t understand it, I’m taking a pass because I’m too tired to learn more about it,” well, that’s the day you’ll need carbon dating to figure out my age.
For a long time, Twitter eluded me. It just looked like a vehicle for getting celebrities into trouble, for them to send out their unfiltered thoughts to the universe and then have to universally regret them. It’s redundant, too: if you’re already telling 1,000 of your closest friends on Facebook that you just spent 20 minutes in the loo, then what could you possibly say in 140 characters on Twitter?
If what I’m seeing is any indication, you could tweet a picture of what you accomplished in the loo.
So while I didn’t see the point of Twitter, I certainly saw the point of not losing track of technology. So just like a celebrity I opened a Twitter account, mostly to follow an interesting person, but only in a Twitter-y way, not a stalker-y way.
And then promptly forgot I had a Twitter account, which led to my next lesson in technology: don’t lose track of your Twitter account, lest it be hacked, just like a celebrity’s! I don’t think the Syrian Electronic Army did it, but I really can’t be sure because I’m not fluent in Russian.
My connection to Moscow severed and my account revamped, now I’m energized. Everything I look at, I’m thinking, “Should I tweet this? My plate of sashimi? The scorpion sting on my toe I endured a few weeks ago? This rash on my elbow looks interesting…”
Mercifully for everyone, the answer so far has been a consistent “don’t.” @BesstMom is limiting herself to blog posts and the occasional retweet of Martian sand dunes that look like Starfleet Academy logos. (Why ‘BesstMom’? Follow me and find out!)
It is heady indeed to see myself on the same feed with Pope Francis, sitting next to Patrick Stewart, sitting next to the Dalai Lama, sitting next to Stephen King, none of whom would recognize me even if I bit them, which I wouldn’t because that’s stalker-y, not Twitter-y, but I’d apologize for it.
Just like a celebrity: on Twitter!
• Ahwatukee Foothills resident Elizabeth Evans can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.