Internet gaga

I was invited yesterday to be on a TV show called ‘Twenty Something’ on Dubai One. There were three of us on a panel to discuss the topic, ‘Is the internet affecting interpersonal relationships?’ The two other panellists were Husni Khufash, Country Manager – Google, and Dr. Saliha Afridi, a psychologist. I was the humble blogger and twitterer (twit?), the one with the alleged ‘affected’ offline life.

When the producer first called me for the show, I had to point out that I wasn’t a 20-something, for starters. And then, I wasn’t quite the avid blogger I once used to be. She reassured me that the name of the programme was more indicative of their target audience, and not necessarily the panellists. “And considering you’ve been writing a blog for 6 ½ years, you must have a lot to share,” she assured me.

Things didn’t start off too well in the morning, when I found that I had sprouted a great big zit on my chin. Of all the days, I thought. But the studio make up lady, did an expert camouflage job and I felt more confident about getting before the cameras.

We had a mini rehearsal on the sets with the two presenters – Anna and Marwan. Husni was asked about internet consumption statistics, which he expertly rattled off. I was asked to share about how I got into blogging, and the good and not-so-good repercussions on my life. Dr. Saliha spoke of how teens and young adults struggled to make the distinction between ‘connectedness’ and ‘relatedness’.

It was a lively chat, and all went pretty smoothly, until I made a ‘cultural faux pas’. I spoke of the negative feedback I got on one of my posts, with an anon commenter labelling me ‘a racist pig’. Both presenters leaped from their seats almost. “We can’t say the word ‘pig’ on air,” I was told.

The porcine ban notwithstanding, the segment got recorded pretty quickly. The length of the segment – 4 ½ minutes – didn’t really allow for too much of an in-depth discussion or debate. It was too broad a topic anyway, and there’s much to be said both for and against the Internet.

For those in Dubai and the Middle East who’d like to watch the show, it airs on Monday 29th March at 8 pm. Do tune in, and oh, please refrain from commenting on the zit.

Car-ry on dreaming

There's an informal parking lot in front of the building, which is the source of much interest and anxiety. The latter emotion is felt if you've parked your car there, and have to extract it from the maze during the middle of the day. The interest comes from watching someone attempt the same maneuver.

Watching the cars scuttle in and out of a narrow opening one afternoon, the conversation somehow veered to 'dream cars'. And I racked my brains trying to figure out if I had one. No automobile trundled along that thought highway. And then, I made the unforgivable mistake of claiming that my current set of wheels was my dream car.

The room erupted. Dream BIG, the chorus hectored, referring to my bitty hatchback – the Nissan Tiida. You should think about driving a Corvette, said one. This time, I didn't blurt out my first thought, which was, 'where would I park it?' I wouldn't hear the end of that one.

But that’s how I am about cars. Maybe it’s to do with gender, but I’m unemotional about pickup and power and engine and doodahs. Just tell me a tank of petrol costs 60 bucks, and it roughly takes 10 days to 2 weeks to work through it, and I'll thank you for sparing me any other details. I get it serviced at requisite intervals, but ask me about mileage and depreciation, and you’ll get question marks where a face ought to be. It’s not that I don’t care at all, but you won’t find me giving it a name or referring to it by gender. It’s and it as far as I’m concerned.

It's got scratches on both sides in front and a wee crack in the bumper. Scars earned shortly after I got my driving stripes. I thought of getting it fixed several times, but the wily insurance people seemed determined to punish me for my transgressions. Scars build character, I reasoned, and let them stay.

And now they’re just as much a part of the car as the quiet cream interiors and generous leg room. There are no dozens of accessories hanging from every surface or overflowing compartments and boot. A single Buddhist good luck charm dangles from the rear-view mirror. And a few coins in the parking bay. For an inveterate accumulator like me, that’s quite an accomplishment. It fits neatly into parking slots, and doesn’t take up too much mind space either. Except for the one time the battery gave up the ghost.

I say, forget about dreaming big. Think small.

Just in case you wanted my opinion

In response to my post - Facebook Face off - I received an email from Brian which I've reproduced here.

My name is Brian and I'm an intern at Box.net ( www.box.net). I wanted to let you know about Box.net's new Facebook Files application. It lets people manage all of their documents, photos, and files online so they can access them from anywhere, or share them with friends on Facebook or on their profile. You can take a look at it here:

http://www.facebook.com/apps/application.php?id=2220202359

Like I said in my post, I'm not too keen on numerous applications on my profile. And I like to keep my documents, photos and files offline. But if any of you find it helpful, just run along and add it.

Anyone out there wants me to review a Business Class trip to Paris? Or an opera in Venice? Or an evening with Christian Bale? Just let me know, ok.

Facebook Face off

For the two of you who don't know about Facebook, it's a bit like a college canteen that's online. You hang out, yak with friends, exchange gifts, music and photos, write graffitti, join groups - all this while bunking important stuff. In blogging terms, one could liken Facebook to the melee in the comment section of fun bloggers like Alpha, Smiley, Anita Rodricks etc. Fluff, fun and foolin' around.

Having been on Facebook and introduced several of my friends to the network, I find I'm beginning to enjoy it a bit. But some things have begun to peeve me lately. And since Facebook doesn't allow one to blow off steam, it's time for the good old blog to bear the brunt. So here goes:

Peeve # 1: Folks rush to add you on as a friend and you never hear from them again. Initially it was thrilling to find an inbox filled with friend requests - old colleagues, school mates, long forgotten college buddies, and I happily accepted requests, going so far as to customise a 'how do I know X' message. But few do anything more than add you to their burgeoning friend list. Well, if you had 150 or more friends, you wouldn't really be able to do anything more than click the 'add as friend' button, would you? And why on earth would you need 150 friends anyway? The 75 on my list make me nervous enough already.

Peeve # 2: What do you do after joining a Facebook group? You sign up with a cool group with an intriguing name - 'People Who Always Have To Spell Their Names For Other People' - but again, apart from joining the group, what else do you do? I mean, how many times can you get a laugh out of the time someone spelt your name as Leek Levers?

Peeve # 3: Where is the 'Facebook for Dummies' when you need it? I realised how complicated Facebook was when I tried to explain to a tech challenged friend how to access a photo album on my profile. It took me a few weeks before I discovered that clicking on the little 'house' icon next to the Facebook logo on one's profile unearthed what all friends had been up to. In excruciating detail. "X is now friends with P; R sent a flower to H; M has ended a relationship and is now single; V squeezed the pimple on his nose and some white stuff oozed out..."

Peeve # 4: Let's not even start on all the curious widgety things that make ones profile look like an overdone Christmas tree. It's not enough to have a Wall, one must have a Super Wall. A Poke's irritating enough, but one must add a Super Poke where you can drop kick, throw a sheep at and defenestrate people. (Defenestrate! You've got to hand it to the creators of that application.) Some of the widgets are fun, but you won't find me adding Vampires or Fortune Cookies or Fluff Friends or Pimp my Facebook in a hurry.

Peeve # 5: The online/offline distinction gets blurred once again. As with blogs where people get carried away with online personas, on Facebook people want to carry as much of their offline world online. So colleagues and neighbours get miffed if you don't accept their friend requests. I see you every day, for crying out loud. What would I want to say to you on Facebook? I even had a colleague ask me about a job on my Wall. Fortunately I hadn't added the Super Poke application or she'd have b*#@h slapped me.

Whines notwithstanding, Facebook isn't all as bad as I've made it out to be. One of my original motivations for signing up was that my taciturn teenage cousins were on Facebook. Long, impassioned mails returned with monosyllabic replies. It seemed the only way to get across was to join them on their turf. And I've gotten to see quite a different side of them. Not so much the sanitised, studious picture their parents paint of them but the wild, fun, adolescents that they are (and ought to be!)

Also Facebook helps rekindle that community feeling one experienced in college, at some workplaces and even in good old blogland. Sort of brings all your friends to the same party. Even if they happen to be clueless aunts or ex-bosses or friends who've only set up a Facebook account but don't know how to proceed from there.

Still, when it comes right down to brasstacks, it's Facebook, not face-to-face.