The Christmas Twitter Game
I’m a (not very good) runner, and one of the discussions that often comes up this time of year is whether you will go for a run on Christmas day. The responses tend to fall into 5 categories:
- Of course, it’s just another day and I’ve got to stick to my training schedule.
- It’s great to get some exercise in before all that indulgence.
- No, it’s kind of showing off, declaring ‘look how committed I am, I run on Christmas day’
- Yes, I like to show off and declare ‘look how committed I am, I run on Christmas day’
- I’d like to but I’m too hung over from Christmas Eve
If we replace running with twittering (or Facebooking or blogging if you prefer), then we have an ed tech equivalent. I wonder who will be up on Christmas day posting tweets such as ‘opening a bad jumper from my parents’ or ‘eating a fifth mince pie’. I’m declaring now that I’m out – no tweets from me on Christmas day.
The Christmas Twitter Game – I’m compiling a secret list of people who I think will twitter on the day itself, and come boxing day I’m going to score my predictive powers. Hey it beats watching the Wizard of Oz on TV again.
I’m not planning on either. I’ll have no internet access (unless my son goes and hacks an unsecured wireless network with his new iPod touch), and the shin splints stopped the running years ago.
I’m not planning on blogging, updating my Facebook status, marking any essays, sending/reading any email, and no RSS feeds.
I’ll start with a glass of sherry at about 11 am, glass of wine with lunch, a liqueur afterwards, then zzz …
But the big news is that I’m planning to do something really unusual. I’m going to read a book. Not on a Kindle, a screen or a pdf, an old fashioned, medieval book. That Gutenberg guy may have been onto something…
Time to read a real book, I should be so lucky. Mine will go something like:
Help daughter unwrap toy mountain
Spend two hours setting up toys and getting them out of damn packaging
Round to in-laws.
More setting up/unpackaging/swearing
With two children under the age of five my day will be taken up with scooping up remnants of over-excited toddler whilst preventing all out war over pressies. No online-ing from me. But I know who’s on my secret ‘bet they will’ list. Game on… :o)