Welcome to my first blog entry (cheer wildly now). Readers with the fortitude to digest my casual, meandering, 7th-grade English writing style will be treated to a veritable cornucopia of semi-meaningful information about me, the company, and things I find curious in Second Life.
A bit about me for background: 42 years old, married 22 of those, 3 frighteningly smart kids (boy 16/girl 13/boy 13), former owner/president of several companies, retired IT Director for an international transportation company. I was programming and repairing computers when the IBM-PC used cassette tapes and CP/M on the Kaypro was new - yeah, that’s old. I’m not ready to quit working just yet but am hampered by some inconvenient recurring medical conditions.
I have always enjoyed computer-enabled socialization, from the first BBS systems that used 300/1200 baud modems on your phone line to the whole email – IM - forum – blog - MMO opportunities that exist today.
My first experiences with technology-enabled socialization goes back to my childhood when I got my first set of walkie-talkies (from the Sears Wish Book, I think – Santa brought them, I didn’t ask questions). Historians will recall the rectangular, often black/silver plastic case (with one speaker which doubled as a microphone), plastic side button to push when you wanted to talk, silver telescoping antenna (that always got bent), and 9-volt battery (which kept falling out because the little plastic door that held it in kept popping off).
I conned everyone I could to take one radio and talk to me as I would go on adventures in my backyard tree house (it was no fun to talk to yourself!). I recall how totally amazed and shocked I was when one day, someone else’s voice came through it that wasn’t a member of my family. It was a truck driver using a CB radio, passing though talking to someone else about ‘Smokey’ and began every sentence with “… that’s a big 10-4.”
I was suddenly, magically connected to something bigger than my backyard.
I could listen and maybe, if they were close enough and on channel 14, participate in the conversation. I quickly found out that you didn’t use your real name, but made up a name called a handle. My uncle Bob was a milk truck driver at the time, and his handle was ‘Rascal’, named for his pet dog. So, I followed suit and “Lil’ Sparky” was born as I took to the air at the ripe old age of 10.
Soon after upgrading to a CB radio with way more power and 23 channels, I formed a local circle of friends who lived nearby. Wonderwoman, Skyking, Astrodog, Duckhunter, Greyhound Chaser all became my virtual friends. We talked to each other daily but ever felt inclined to see each other, even though we knew that we must live less than 5 miles away (you could tell based on the strength of signal). No, the magic was in the use of the technology that provided us a seemingly anonymous way to freely share experiences, thoughts, ideas, hopes and dreams.
As the CB radio craze took hold of the American public, the airwaves were soon crowded with newcomers who didn’t know the ten-code, or signed in and out wrong, or were just plain rude and interrupting. Eventually, users with illegally overpowered transmitters in places hundreds of miles away swamped any reasonable communication on nearly every channel, rendering just about every attempt at conversation into a very unpleasant, noisy production of squeals and distortion. The governing body, the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) didn’t have the manpower to make much of an impact to control it, and the everyday citizen could only frown, try later, turn it off and walk away. As a result of all these changes, our group didn’t chat as much, and our virtual community eventually drifted apart.
Upon reflection, it’s interesting that my CB experiences seem to mirror my experiences in Second Life. The virtual friendships behind a screen name, the online communities… the “external threats (such as griefers and spammers) who interrupt our way of life while residents and the powers that be struggle to control and protect what we think is right and good… and the friends we make and who all eventually seem to drift away.