June 2009 Archives

Back in the day, I used to be a DJ. To prove how old I am, I was on the air back before Howard Stern could say anything he wanted, in olden days when you actually had to have an FCC license. Really. I spent 10 years in radio, first in high school outside Princeton, then in college in Austin, and even in a renegade SUNY station in midtown Manhattan. I even spun at a dance club for a while on the east side (dead shift Sunday-Mondays, but still) until a couple guys with guns came running through the club and out the back door. I decided I could do without that kind of excitement--or critics, for that matter. And of course, I was heavy into the indie music scene, with friends in groups playing all the cool NYC clubs (a moment of silence, please, for the now defunct CBGB, may it rest in historic music and sticky floor peace). If I wasn't with the band, I knew a guy who knew a guy. I've had more backstage passes than I can count, and I felt seriously cool, even if it was only by association.

I've worked for Penn State for a number of years. My first job was as a staff assistant, and I worked my way up from there. It wasn't what I wanted to be when I grew up, but it was a good job with benefits--and when you have a family, benefits are a Good Thing. (Ask Martha.) One of the biggest "perks" is the educational benefit which allows employees a 75% tuition break on Penn State courses. This is not a benefit of which I took immediate advantage. We had a young family and priorities revolved around raising them. As kids grew and started to transition into middle school, however, coordinating people and schedules started to get a little easier and I was able to take the occasional moment to stop and catch my breath, and take stock.

It was during one of those taking stock moments I realized I wasn't very happy with where I was and what I was doing.

It's going on 10pm, and I've just gotten home after an early morning departure, a full day of work, meetings and a great lunch gathering, after work errands, plus trying to create a couple of presentations. Home feels good. And then I realize--I have no blog post for the day. I actually have one for tomorrow, believe it or not. But today? Nope.

Nada.

Nothing. (sigh)

Nuts.

My daughter, The Coed, is in North Dakota this summer, working as a camp counselor at a God camp. It's an awesome opportunity for her, but it's the first time she's been verrrrrrry far away for so long (she left for camp in early May). There is no stopping by to pick up a few things, no showing up at my desk for a surprise hello when she's on campus, no coming home for Sunday, Bloody Sunday (our standing end-of-weekend family dinner of steaks on the grill). Instead, we get an occasional text message or facebook update which is about all she can manage due to the time zones and schedules. On Sunday, however, I managed to grab the early morning phone call and had a wonderful conversation with her before she went off to KP duty. And you know what I got an earful of? Happiness and laughter.

Saturday was a beautiful day. Gorgeous sunshine and blue skies, no pressing schedule demanding my attention, just time spent with friends doing friend things. You know, the stuff that doesn't rock the world, but sometimes just rocks your world. I had made time to hang with my friends Audrey and Hannah, who have been patiently encouraging me to finish the first difficult knitting project I've taken on. We were downtown in Central Parklet for Knit in Public Day, under a pavilion at the picnic table, enjoying the greenery all around us and the cool breeze playing in the trees. For some reason it took me back to the art camps I worked every summer, helping smaller kids make their plastic lanyards and popsicle stick picture frames. In reflection, it wasn't much of a reach for my brain--doing crafts outdoors in the sunshine. I mean, duh. Talk about no brainer. But I had also been kicking around some sticker ideas for the Learning Design Summer Camp, and it struck me this was what I had loved about the idea of camp. We were doing things, but we were having fun. Fun discussing ideas and showing off our current works in progress. Then I found myself showing Hannah my sketches for my sticker submissions and we started talking about what we loved about camp when we were younger.

I'm still a bit overwhelmed by the amazing response and attention I've received these last couple of days from both the Penn State Web Conference, and the Social Media Summit the day after. It's really gratifying to see people recognize you and come over to say hi and reconnect. I am incredibly fortunate to get that kind of reaction from so many. Because, let's face it: to know my kind is not necessarily to love my kind. I'm outgoing, I'm loud, I'm boisterous, I have lots of enthusiasm and very little filter. It can be a bit overwhelming to those not inclined to befriend that kind of person and, truly, I understand that.  It takes all kinds, it's not you, it's me, it's all good.

So yesterday at the social media summit, @tsand Ustreamed concurrently, and provided a running commentary to our conversation on his very own backchannel. I watched, but didn't have the audio up. Today while I was working, I listened to the commentary and nearly fell off my chair several times. @tsand is a born character and, in what must have been a slow period, started replicating people's twitter avatars. He's a great mimic, and it was comical.

Then he got to me. That was hysterical.

Daniel Frommelt was in town, as usual, for the Penn State Web Conference and, this year, totally blew me away with his presentation on Augmented Reality (AR). It's the first time I've really come into contact with this emerging technology, and I was mesmerized. Here's the slick video from "We've got a huge budget and a ton of people to throw at this" GE.

It's like Harold traded in his purple crayon for a Sharpie marker.


Check out the full story from the Lexington Herald-Leader.

Now anybody with kids will tell you that permanent marker on the walls rarely turns out this well. In fact, it usually results in lots of scrubbing and even repainting--not to mention the raised voices and shrieks of discovery. But what happens when we look at an old tool with a fresh look? Use it in a way that usually is wrong and forbidden?

My strength, it must be said, is my connection to my community. I find, more often than not, I am a connector and a conduit between people, groups, and ideas. I actually like that about me; I can take an idea and generate enthusiasm--get people talking and excited about something. I'm especially good at events. Call it a gift. I like to think of it as one part marketing, one part coordinating, one part socializing, and one part caring. Because I care about my community. I might not be involved in the sexy stuff at work, but I can watch other groups as they work with new ideas, and create new ways to mash up data, tools, and communications to engage each other. I find the dialogue is exciting and, while I am an arm's length from it, what about those others who are a campus away? How much fun is it to have people reach out and say hey; look what we're doing. How could you use this idea where you work?