A guy born in 1924 provides a social media “a-ha”

My Dad was born in 1924, about 498 years before social media spaces were invented. I thought about him quite a bit this year around Thanksgiving, as that holiday was always big deal for him, and our family. Somewhere over the last couple of days, a social media light bulb went off in my head.

He loved Thanksgiving for a couple of reasons. One, because he loved being alive, and was very thankful for that. (I guess fighting through a horrid existence in the Army in WWII, and surviving a greater horrid existence as a prisoner of war will do that to a guy.) Two, he was thankful for his loving wife and family of five children. Moreover, getting us together as young adults, and with growing families of our own was no small feat. He said a prayer before every Thanksgiving meal, and it ended with “…and we’re all together.” He just wanted us all to be together for a day, laughing, eating, telling stories and having some fun. Together.

So here’s the cheap a-ha realization/analogy about my Dad’s sentimental big day.

Participating in social media is like being a Wallman on Thanksgiving: it’s about being all together. We share. Talk. Laugh. Tell stories. Debate. Engage. And eat pie.

When we Wallmans are not together, we’re living the life that we talk about when we come back together. When we social citizens are not together online, we’re living the life that we talk about when we come back together. We share. Talk. Laugh. Tell stories. Debate. Engage. If only we could eat pie online.

The creative lesson of “whale dung!”

My dad was brilliant at swearing angrily without using the g0-to curse words. He could make “whale dung!” feel worse than any expletive. We kids would quake when hearing that stuff, not thinking for a minute that he was making up his own vocabulary. It took until I was about 16 before I realized all dads didn’t talk this way.

What’s the lesson? There are more creative, more memorable ways to do almost anything. Even swearing.

Official writing freak

My dad really liked writing. He was an official writing freak. He wrote about his experiences fighting Nazis, and being a prisoner of war. He wrote a few non-fiction history books after retirement. He was always a word guy, and invented a good number of them along the way. He could tell a good story. He was funny and witty. But it wasn’t until he had written a few books that it seemed like he was officially an official writing freak.

Here in the 2000’s, one measure of being an officially official word freak is by blogging. I have a feeling that if my dad were in my shoes, he’d be sharing his writing and ideas online as well.

CJW, 1944

So here’s the christening of my Idea Bucket. A place for writing and ideas and creativity. Hope you enjoy.