I’ve Got the This & That Technology Blues

Handheld this, mobile that,
Interfaces so user friendly.
Babies in strollers navigate smartphones;
Their parents push hard to catch up.

Tap this, swipe that,
Technology couldn’t be easier.
My mother refuses to touch a computer;
She rarely uses her cell phone.

Watch this, record that,
My TV is big and thin.
Streaming movies from many sources;
There aren't enough hours in the day.

“Like” this, follow that,
Social networks keep on growing.
How many people can really be friends,
If I never see them in person.

WiFi this, Bluetooth that,
I find I’m always discoverable.
My favorite feature is “power off,”
A mental break from constant contact.

Living forever

Science, science fiction, and dreamers continue to explore ways of living longer. I would say that my 97-year-old mother-in-law, who passed this summer, was proof of longevity. Even now she lives on, after a fashion. Today, she was summoned to jury duty. Her bank wants her to download a mobile banking app for the iPhone. She's also gotten a few proxies and ballots in the mail, so she can vote at corporate shareholder meetings.

OK, so it takes some time for computers to catch up with the realities of mortal lives.

Same goes for social networking sites. So far, I know of two deceased colleagues whose profiles continue to appear on LinkedIn. LI addresses the issue in its FAQs, but I feel funny about being the one to erase the last footprints of their digital lives.

Facebook takes another approach, memorializing deceased members by removing certain personal information and leaving the page accessible to confirmed friends through search. I'm not a Facebook member, so I don't know the details of this policy, but it can be anything from troubling to eerie to know that even "until death do us part" doesn't apply here. 

Twitter has yet another approach for its deceased-member policy, which requires an "interested party" to send in bits of information before it takes action.

CNET compares the Twitter and Facebook policies and comes to this appropriate conclusion: "...policies about a user's death can end up being just as important as those you agree to when you first sign up."

Apparently there's an element of social networking to be considered even in death.

Filling the Gap

The Gap is creating quite a stir with its logo, and I'm still scratching my head. Not about its decision to scrap the old logo. Or the choice of its new logo. I just can't figure out why people seem to really care.

Now it's gone viral.

Fast Company has posted an exclusive interview with NewLogo, in which it whines, "...I have feelings! I have a friggin Twitter account! The only way to deal with the pain is comfort eating. Pretty soon I'll be type set in Helvetica Neue Black." (@gaplogo)


Not to be outdone, OldLogo is also tweeting, @OldGapLogo.

Yes, I realize it's all good fun. And I'm sure this will become another success story for the power of social networks.

But the real winner? The Gap, natch. It doesn't matter if people love or hate the logo, as long as they keep talking about the Gap. And the value of all this exposure? Priceless.

UPDATED Oct. 12, 2010: Gap ditched its new logo mere days after this post. (I claim no responsibility.) Responds NewLogo on Twitter: "I HAD feelings. Jerks. Now I'm just numb – I don't know who I am anymore!" And from OldGapLogo: "Well...looks like my work here is done. Peace. I'm out."