Hello Adoring Public,
I'm writing you from my living room. Winter has returned to Burlington, and I'm sitting as close as I can to my space heater without risking a melting, burning mess. I can imagine other, betters ways to start an online class that don't begin with a computer catching fire. Might help help heat the apartment though...All of that aside, I'm anticipating an interesting 15 weeks of e-class. It should be enlightening to hear, first hand, how other people engage in multimedia. I know pretty well how I use it, and it's effect in my life, but I'm looking forward to seeing how people of different ages and walks of life live with multimedia.
I must admit that I've never blogged before. Being on the receiving end of everything always interested me more. There's something very bold and admirable about putting your voice and opinion on the internet for the entire connected world to see, though. To be honest, I've held out this long for fear of what people would think of what I had to say. God forbid, a bunch of people who are never going to meet me might think that something I said once wasn't funny or relevant or smart or whatever it was that they wanted it to be. This class should be a good exercise in putting myself outside my comfort zone. Me biggest source of anxiety to overcome will be that nagging thought that what I've just written is somehow not good enough. Whatever THAT means. For all you know, I could not even exist. I could just be a digital manipulation. I could be a 90-year-old woman typing this in her nursing home. Wouldn't that be impressive? No arthritis at 90? And who would have any harsh words for an exceptionally dextrous old lady in assisted living?
Let's say, for a moment, that I'm not a 90-year-old woman or a programmed cypher, and that I'm actually 25 and fairly connected to the technological world. I feel like I grew up with the internet. In sixth grade, my sister and I teamed up and bought a CD burner from Best Buy for like $150, and worked our way through Napster before media piracy became such a hot issue. I remember being a freshman in high school and my friend telling me about this cool new website called youtube, where I could find all kinds of music videos and live performances from my favorite bands.
Today, I use the internet almost immediately when I wake up, as embarrasing as that is to admit. My alarm goes off. I look at the weather forcast for the day. I see what pictures my friend Rob put up on instagram while I was sleeping. Then I get out of bed, get the coffee started, and switch to the laptop where the real media injection starts. I have a handful of blogs I check in on every day. Usually first thing in the morning, sometimes many times a day, depending on how busy I am at work. Again, shame. I get the latest news and opinions in the bicycle world from www.bikerumor.com, alternate uber-hip cool guy bike stuff from www.prollyisnotprobably.com and everything music (mostly metal music) from www.metalsucks.com. If those sites are down, or I miss a day of posts, I kind of feel lost and a little dead inside. Shame, Shame Shame. Seriously, though, the contents of these blogs have become a staple in the 24-hour life cycle of Dan Smith. How do I feel about that? A little embarassed. But, if you'd like, I can tell you why you'll probably think that the new Opeth CD sucks, and why Eight speeds probably aren't enough for an internal hub on a fully-loaded touring bike. If you had asked me this stuff three years ago I would have probably been just as confused as you are. But now, thanks to these silly blogs, I have all of this questionably usless (ful?) information sloshing around inside my skull.
So here's to the next 15 weeks. This is a big move for me. I hope that I've changed enough in the last five years to make this a successful go around. I'm doing this for me this time. The more rewarding things I'm finding in life are those that I have to work for, and have no idea what I'm doing. An online tech class without face-to-face interaction with the person doling out the grades is a perfect. example.
I'll ask questions and stay teachable. The older I get, the more I see there is to learn.
Thanks for listening.
