Twitter's Dark Side

Hello friends.  It has been a while since I posted anything new, but this morning I had to share an experience.  Twitter, of course, is for those people who can say meaningful things in 140 words or less.  Candidly, my style is more like 1400 words or more so I find Twitter less than engaging.  Still, my adult children assume that I read their tweets and are disappointed when I am uninformed about their latest revelations.

My husband - remember opposites attract - loves Twitter.  He has lots of Twitter followers, follows lots of others and is friends with all kinds of minimalist types. Honestly, if you met him - fit, handsome, intellectual, clever-funny, definitely 'macho' in the best sense of the word - you would understand why he was a little disturbed this morning.  You see I had decided that I could try to be just as appealing and cool as the rest of my family.  All I had to do was 'find' my Twitter self and share her with others.  Bullet points, I reminded myself.  Think in outline form. I was sure I could do it if I just spent a few hours developing a persona, drawing on my many interests and a very active life.  Brevity has always alluded me, but people my age can learn new tricks.

After all, I bought my first Apple computer in 1979.  Okay so I don't generally bring it up to demonstrate a claim to techiness, but I was there when it was all happening, baby.  My husband refuses to admit I got a really good deal at the time.  Five hundred bucks used and Apples were hot and selling for thousands!  Of course, I could never get it to actually work, but that's another issue.  Nobody I paid to try could either, so should that be a reflection on my judgment?  I refuse to wear a Scarlet A on my forehead for the rest of my life.

Luckily I slept in today so I missed the initial fireworks.  My husband was at the computer and there was a thoughtful if cold latte waiting for me.  As I popped it into the microwave for a minute, he said, "Clay and singing are like prozac for me.  What does it for you all?"

He paused dramatically as he said this and gave me a long stare before he continued.  "I just learned the lyrics to Solamenta Una Vez in Spanish.  It's a beautiful song except in English."

Ah ha! I thought with pride.  He noticed.  It was much easier than I thought and why he even seems a bit amazed. I was thrilled.

Did I mention last night was his birthday?  We will celebrate with extended family today, but last night it was just the two of us.  I got him a lovely, designer sweater which he actually liked (a triumph), made him these delicious green enchiladas and a Caesar salad and accidentally hijacked into his Twitter account.

With dramatic flair I had announced to his world that he had these hidden, earthy romantic passions.  The word Prozac would never cross his lips even in jest, and if the man sings, only the dog would know.  Of course, our middle daughter was the sleuth who discovered the error.  She thought it was important enough to use the telephone.

The visual for anyone who knows him even mildly is hilarious.  He is the ex-international banker, the silent photographer, the man who intimidates people with a look and is rightly known at his club as the Godfather of Squash.  I did Tweet and admit my error to spare his reputation, but I had to stop laughing first.  The question is, once it's out there, will anyone truly believe a disclaimer?

Please share your Twitter disaster stories, particularly the funny ones.:)

Peace & love, my friends.