“For everything you have missed, you have gained something else, and for everything you gain, you lose something else.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
1600 Pennsylvania Ave by messiestobjects
Since the announcement of Joe Biden as Obama’s running mate, many of the “news” stories covering the campaign mention how Obama promised to text people so they’d be the first to know but the media foiled his plan. One AP story I find particularly irritating said:
“Sen. Barack Obama’s pledge to supporters that they would be the ‘first to know’ his running mate turned out to be a savvy but unworkable communications strategy.”
Pledge to supporters? Really? Was that a pledge? That might be worded a little strongly. It’s not as if it were a campaign promise. We know about lead gathering. We’ve seen Glengarry Glen Ross. We knew what we were getting into. Moreover, we know what the media in this country is like. So, it was fun to play along, wondering when Obama would text. And that was about the limit of pleasure one could suck out of the experience.
The story goes on to say:
“Michael Silberman, a partner at online communications firm EchoDitto, said the campaign gambled when they made such a high-stakes promise and find themselves in a precarious situation where they could risk a great deal of trust with supporters.”
Cue the dramatic music. Gamble! High-stakes promise! Precarious situation! Risking trust! Honestly, people just wanted to know who Obama picked. It’s not the betrayal Silberman thinks it is.
He went on to say:
“For Obama supporters, this is like finding out from your neighbor instead of your sister that she’s engaged — not how you want or expect the news to be delivered,” Silberman said.”
Or, it’s like finding out from your self-important, annoying neighbor with histrionic personality disorder who you can barely tolerate that someone you respect picked a running mate. More like that.
In a related plea to early adopters:
If you love being first in line … and who doesn’t? … then I highly suggest you read The Hard Way. Catch the wave before the ocean rushes in.
messiestobjects said,
August 25, 2008 at 12:16 pm
Seriously. I don’t think that anyone really cares about not getting text messaged more than his detractors do, because they want him to lose based on any stupid little thing they can call him out on. At least Paris Hilton isn’t making fun of him… now that would be a bad sign.
Jennifer said,
August 25, 2008 at 12:17 pm
Weird. I just read the exact same article.
I am a little disappointed that Obama picked an old, white guy as a running mate, but we’ll see how it works out. At least it wasn’t Hilary Clinton.
julieluongo said,
August 25, 2008 at 1:27 pm
There’s not an abundance of choice in Washington – old white guys and slightly younger white guys abound.
Sissy said,
August 25, 2008 at 2:27 pm
My 9-year-old is convinced that we are going to “have a depression with no food to eat and no place to live and no way of surviving.”
Christy said,
August 25, 2008 at 4:04 pm
A depression would be good for this country.
messiestobjects said,
August 25, 2008 at 9:33 pm
I think the country is already depressed. It needs a hug.
julieluongo said,
August 26, 2008 at 12:03 pm
Or exercise, a good diet, and maybe, if that doesn’t work, some meds just for a little while. It’s only episodic depression brought on by its bad marriage not systemic depression like poor Somalia or Niger.
Sissy said,
August 26, 2008 at 4:40 pm
Either way, put me down for the meds. And don’t try to fucking hug me. I want the drugs.
messiestobjects said,
August 26, 2008 at 10:10 pm
Sissy’s cry for help only convinces me even more that her inner rainbow-colored bunny rabbit needs a hug.
Gary said,
August 27, 2008 at 10:33 am
My 9-year-old is convinced that we are going to “have a depression with no food to eat and no place to live and no way of surviving.”
that’s one perceptive kid
julieluongo said,
August 27, 2008 at 11:18 am
This is what hugs get you. Perceptive kids.
Sar said,
September 2, 2008 at 2:10 pm
My 6 year old keeps asking me what happens to the world if a meteor hits China. It is starting to freak me out. I say don’t worry about text messages, depression, a depression, or people hugging you…we are all going to die when the big one hits Asia. maybe I should look into the meds
julieluongo said,
September 3, 2008 at 10:15 am
You should tell your kid about a butterfly flapping its wings in China. I used to worry I’d die prematurely by nuclear war, tidal wave, house fire, the earth spinning off its axis, a black hole, falling thru a sidewalk grate, and attack by a bear. A motorcycle accident is most likely these days… or a meteor in China.
Sissy said,
September 5, 2008 at 4:11 pm
Sar – I’m on it. Moving forward with the procurement and soon, the distribution.
MamaPeg is Watching You said,
September 6, 2008 at 10:27 am
I have proof that sunshine and exercise are the cure for depression. I say, let the economy bike ride down the shore all summer. That will fix it!
julieluongo said,
September 6, 2008 at 5:27 pm
Excellent case study, Peg. Are you sure though? You might have to try it again next summer and see if it duplicates.
MamaPeg is Watching You said,
September 6, 2008 at 7:24 pm
I am giddy – absolutely giddy. I am working at my old high school where I’ve been doing musicals for the last 30 or more years! I am in the IT dept but next semester I’m teaching an instrumental music class as well! Summer hours start Jul 1 and are from 8 am to 12:45 pm – FRIDAYS OFF! Plus the benefits are amazing! Can you believe it?
julieluongo said,
September 6, 2008 at 10:00 pm
Peg! That’s perfect. Crazy! This is exactly what you wanted. Actually, it’s better then what you wanted. Incredible.
Sissy said,
September 7, 2008 at 1:09 pm
Everything happens for a reason.
Keyser pimp mac daddy said,
September 7, 2008 at 4:58 pm
julie, I was amazed to see ont he back of your book that you have written about fishing. Where can I read about my favorite subject?
julieluongo said,
September 7, 2008 at 9:37 pm
I used to be “The Female Angler” for a radio-TV-online outdoor network. I don’t actually remember the name of it. But I couldn’t find any of what I wrote when I searched my name and the column name just now. Whew. I sincerely hope all of the writing I did before I was 30 has been lost in the ether. Getting my chops was both painful and public.