I have always been a twitterer. I have twittered all my life, before the days of the internet, when twittering 'oop north' just meant having a good, brisk rant. Now I have my brisk rants in 140 characters or less...and I love it.
Working for myself and from home, Twitter is my equivalent of office chatter. And, every now and then, the office is a hive of opinion.
Today is one of those extraordinary Twitter days, as we all have a good rant about Jan Moir's hideous excuse for journalism in the Daily Mail regarding Stephen Gately's death. She has managed to knit together innuendo, spite, unsubstantiated rumour and insensitivity, which all crescendos to a conclusion so breathtakingly dumb that the world record for gasteds being flabbered has been broken. The chance to spout off how mad it made me was refreshing, and to see others equally as incensed was a nice reminder that the majority are humane, though so much of mainstream media would have us think otherwise.
Earlier this week I was bemoaning the new garden fence that the new neighbour put up, mainly as the old one had fond memories. Not that I have some strange fence fetish (though I'm sure if I die, Ms Moir will write an article claiming I had sordid relations with it and the garden pergola before my unnatural demise).
No, it was the fence over which me and the previous neighbours would chat. It was over that 3ft fence she showed me the ultrasound of her twins, one of whom was sadly lost. It was over that fence, that some tears were shed.
You'd wave as you put the washing out. The dog would peak his head over for a fuss. "It's cold today", "It's hot today", "Better get the grass cut", "Are the kids looking forward to Christmas/Easter/school?" - it wasn't about great debates, it was a literal nod to a fellow person.
The new fence is over 6ft - "this is a boundary".
We bemoan the lack of local community and neighbourhoods but we crave privacy and our 6ft fences.
Twitter is my new 3ft garden fence. "It's cold today", "It's hot today", "Better get the grass cut", "Are the kids looking forward to Christmas/Easter/school?"
Someone nods back and I return to work in the knowledge life is going on.
Gha! Jan Moir. If she's a journalist I'm glad I'm a blogger.
Sympathise about the fence. My neighbours (known as the God-Awfuls) did the same thing. There used to be a 4 foot fence between us; I chatted with previous neighbours, stroked their dog, looked at the scan pic of their baby. Unfortunately, when said baby was born they moved to a bigger house, and the newly installed GAs tore down the sociable fence, and erected an 8 foot one. They also wear matching jackets, that's very telling.
Posted by: Kate | 18 October 2009 at 10:09 PM