March 26, 2009
These days I’m living in West Vancouver, British Columbia. I’m house-sitting for some dear friends. I’m lucky because it’s so beautiful here. How about a nighttime pic from my patio on the ocean…
I often sit outside at night and watch the planes arrive and depart from Vancouver International Airport, across the inlet. They’re far way; the sound is muted. I’m happy. Tonight the waves are unusually strong. I know that when I go to bed I’ll be able to hear the waves crashing from my bedroom window as I fall into a deep sleep.
But now, when I return indoors I’m confronted by my computer and a thousand emails and a thousand new technologies to master. The feeling is of general madness. I’ve chosen to attempt to remain abreast of all the new publishing developments on the Internet and to report upon them on this site. It’s an exhausting undertaking. There are many others who have taken it upon themselves to do the same thing. Several do a better job than I do. More exhaustion. Am I making a contribution or just spinning my wheels?
What happens if I don’t Twitter, nor read the Twitters of my learned colleagues? What happens if I don’t remain au courant with my Facebook colleagues? What happens if I don’t exploit my connections on LinkedIn or Plaxo? Will I perish?
Or will I thrive?
This coming Saturday I’ll board a plane to the OnDemand/AIIM conference in Philadelphia, staying for the duration. Flying cross-country remains another version of hell.
I don’t quite know how to deal in the present with the challenge of staying on top of such fast-changing technology. Do you?
At any rate, if you’ll be in Philadelphia next week please get in touch so that we might share a merely human moment of conversation and/or a libation.