Tweet, Tweet

I have been thinking about getting Twitter recently.  So many writers I meet (published and unpublised, old and young) tweet.  I can see the networking sense in it but there is still something that holds me back. 

There has been a great deal of chat in the media recently about Twitter (or should I say tweet?).   Quite well known people are being sued for comments they have made on it, while others are in trouble for making inappropriate statements.  Given the fact that both my sons tweet, and being a social networking dinosaur, I realised I know very little about what Twitter actually is.

Apparently in 2006, after a daylong brainstorming session, three American guys came up with the idea for Twitter. They called it Twitter because it means “a short burst of inconsequential information,” and “chirps from birds”.  Interesting.   I often hear birds outside in my garden and to be honest it does sound like they are having a chirp about absolutely nothing. 

 

Six years later 140 million users send 340 million tweets a day.  That’s a lot of chat - from the Pope to rock stars to politicians to journalists and to perhaps your actual neighbour. But what do these tweets actually say?  Any fan of Twitter will tell you that not all tweets are inconsequential, that a great deal of breaking and useful news has been imparted through the Twittersphere. 

 

That might be true but from what I can see (and hear) a great deal of nothing is also delivered.  So my question is: how amid the cacophony of 340m tweets a day do you sort the tweets from the chaff?  Answers in less than 140 characters please.

Sorting laundry is definitely easier than sorting teenagers

OK.  So nobody said it would easy.  Raising children I mean not laundry.  Somewhere way way back in the recesses of my mind I recall my mother probably saying having pigs would be easier.  She might just be right.  At least the little curly tailed creatures would appreciate you when you throw slops at them and surprisingly are cleaner and tidier than the average teenager.

But it's not the mess or noise of a teenager that's troubling me - it's the fact that as they get older they are actually more demanding than they were when they were 8 or 9 or 10.  Life was a lot easier then than I realised at the time.  Sure I had to drive them here there and everywhere - swimming lessons, cricket, football, rugby, piano etc but emotionally they were sound and happy.  It's those dreaded hormones that have well and truly kicked in and some days I feel like an old wet towel - wrung out to dry.

And there's still the laundry to do.