Why I'm Still On Twitter

It was sometime in January 2008, and I was teaching at Emerson College in Boston. A couple of my Journalism students asked if they could "follow" me on Facebook, but I had to admit to them I wasn't on social media yet. In fact, I had no plans to be on it at any time soon (I think the late, great Betty White once called it a "giant time-waster," and that's how it certainly seemed to me). 

But my students reminded me that as a radio consultant (which I still was at the time), I needed to be available to my clients, some of whom were certainly on social media by then. And so it was, in February 2008, that I finally joined Facebook.  A few months after that, in August 2008, I joined Twitter. As time passed, it turned out to be a good way to keep in touch with people-- not just clients, but friends, former and current colleagues, and... Rush fans. Lots of them reached out, and I was happy to hear from them. 

To my surprise, a growing number of folks (including my Emerson students) wanted to follow me on Facebook and Twitter-- I eventually added Instagram, but I don't use it very much. Anyway, for some reason, I've ended up with close to 5,000 followers on Facebook; and as I'm writing this, I've got more than 8,800 followers on Twitter. (I don't have, and never received, the famous Blue Check Mark-- Twitter verification turned me down twice, saying I wasn't well-known enough, there were no hashtags about me, etc. It was disappointing but somehow I survived).    

I was concerned when I heard Elon Musk was buying Twitter-- I had nothing against him, and even during my years in radio, I never met the guy. But he kept referring to himself as a "free speech absolutist," and I was worried that he might allow certain voices back on the platform (Neo-Nazis, for example) who had, in my view, been justifiably banned by the previous owner. I also had noticed that while he claimed to believe in free speech, he seemed quite willing to block anyone who was critical of him or disagreed with his views. (He seemed to have shifted from generally libertarian views to more hard-right perspectives.) I can respect whatever his views might be, but I was worried about whether he would impose them on the rest of us.

Today, many of the folks I used to follow, journalists especially, have been made to feel so unwelcome that they left the platform. I miss them-- Twitter used to be a wonderful way to reach out to reporters with story ideas, or share information. Elon declared war on sites like NPR, for reasons that make no sense to me. He also has posted some bizarre conspiracy theories. He removed the Blue Check Marks from folks who had earned theirs under the previous ownership (even the Pope lost his); and he tried to monetize what used to be a way to verify whether people were who they said they were, rather than imposters or bots. And yes, he did let some folks back onto Twitter who I wish were still not permitted.

But I haven't left, and I have no plan to leave at any time soon. Twitter is still a wonderful way to organize donations for teachers via Donors Choose. It's still a wonderful way to reach out to Rush fans. When I blog about Rush, which I sometimes do, or participate in a webcast about the band, I get the most response from folks on Twitter. Meanwhile, I play Wordle with my followers, I comment on current events, and sometimes I post about what's going on in my life. I've made some good friends on Twitter; those relationships matters to me. So, as crazy as things may get, and even though I don't like what Elon has done to Twitter, I intend to stick around and keep posting. To those who read my Tweets, thank you. I look forward to continuing to communicate with you, now and in the future!

An Attitude of Gratitude

Geddy Lee's new book is finally coming out in November, I am told. I've been asked by several Rush fans if I'll be in it, and I've replied that I honestly have no idea. Given that it's a memoir, whatever Geddy thinks is especially important about his life will be included. If I had to guess, he'll focus on family stories, his childhood friends, his upbringing, his mentors-- in other words, the factors that made him who he is today. And yes, of course, he will write about his career-- and what it was like to be a rock musician in a very popular band.  

If I do get included, that will be wonderful. But if I don't, I won't be disappointed at all. Here's why. Ever since I first met the members of Rush in mid-1974, they have always been courteous to me, and they have always been appreciative for my role in their career. Over the years, individually and as a group, they thanked me many times for championing them: for encouraging radio stations to play their music, and sticking up for them when critics would say bad things about their newest album (some of the reviews were brutal...and I couldn't understand that at all). I spent a long time trying to get the judges at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame to change their minds and induct the guys. Meanwhile, I led the effort to get Rush a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Geddy, Alex, and Neil knew about it all. And they expressed their appreciation every time they saw me.

At the Agora Ballroom in Cleveland, at a live concert in December of 1974, just before Geddy sang "Working Man," he gave me a shout-out. Sometimes, during a magazine or newspaper interview, one of the guys would mention how I had helped get them noticed in the USA and how I got their music on the radio; even ten, fifteen, twenty years later, they would take a moment and thank me. They didn't have to do that. But that is the kind of people they were. And still are.

That's rare in rock and roll; in fact, it's rare in lots of professions-- especially in business, and in politics. So much has become transactional. It boils down to: "I'll be nice to you because I need you to do me a favor. And once you do it, I'll forget you exist." I've seen that behavior more times than I can count. But I've known Rush for nearly five decades, and that is not how they have ever been. There are many folks who have known them for years and can attest to the fact that the guys in the band have never acted like the stereotype of a rock star. They were always three nice guys from Toronto, before they were famous, while they were on their way up, and after they achieved fame. Success never went to their head.    

When I was at the after-party at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2013, Geddy's mom (of blessed memory) was there. She had watched with pride as her son and his band-mates were (finally) inducted, and when she saw me, she called Geddy over and asked if he had thanked me for what I had done for the band. Geddy kind of rolled his eyes, but then he said something like, "Yes, Ma, I've thanked her many times." Geddy's mom raised him right-- she raised him to express his appreciation to people who were kind, and even years later, that's what he has always done.         

So, if I'm in Geddy's book, I will certainly be pleased that I was included. But if his memoir goes in an entirely different direction, I'll be pleased about that too. Since 1974, we've kept in touch. I saw him when he was promoting his book about the bass (here's a photo from when he came to Brookline, a few minutes from Boston, to a wonderful independent store called the Booksmith in 2019). And if there's a book tour for the new book, I'll look forward to seeing him then. But for now, I hope the book is everything he wants it to be, and says exactly what he wants it to say. And I'll be happy for him either way. Rush and I have shared a lot of history, and I have so many good memories. And knowing the guys for so many years is another thing I'm grateful for.