The Christmas Letter

Maybe it’s the crowd I run with. Maybe it’s a sign of our times – whether economic or digital. But I miss the tradition of the Christmas Letter.

When I was a boy, one of the favored holiday treats – not quite up there with my mother’s Vanilla Kipferln cookies or my Grossmama’s precious packages of Julius Meinl chocolate wafers from Vienna , but surely on a par with the Advent wreath and singing carols by the piano – were the holiday cards that arrived with a family letter. These missives from people my parents knew from The War or from my dad’s Harvard days, but we kids only knew through their annual dispatches, were a window into another world, one of privilege, access, and refinement – or at least (even to our impressionable young minds) to pretenses thereof.

Imagine, if you will, the voice and manner of Thurston B. Howell III (from TV’s Gilligan’s Island) recounting his clan’s far-flung and glamorous exploits from the year past, recited in a warm yet holier-than-thou tone: “Susie polished her tennis game this summer, making it to the top of the Juniors Ladder at the club. Stanford will be lucky to have her next fall!” “Tommy Jr. spent his sophomore semester abroad at Colgate’s little outpost in Kitzbuhl, brushing up on his Deutsch (and his slalom skills!). Mitzie and I will be joining him there after the holidays for a week on the slopes.” “Caroline is a shoe-in for valedictorian this year at Lawrence – nothing but straight A’s for our little scholar!” “We made the most of the summer on the Vineyard… sailing nearly every day with our friends Willard and Diana, and toasting the sunsets from our verandah, martini in hand.” “The only thing better was our two weeks in Florence in October – my golly, the art, the architecture, the opera… divine!”

These weren’t the only such letters that arrived, naturally. Other old friends kept tabs with notes and photos of their trips, their children’s successes, their personal bests. And usually with a little less one-uppitiness. (In fact, my mother received just such a letter the other day, from a cousin who recounted in six pages of fine detail his 5-month retirement trip by ship from the Arctic to Antarctica. "Myamar is so much better than Thailand," he says. So apparently, the artform is not altogether dead.)

Touching base

I was reminded of these annual looks back as we spent part of the past two nights hurriedly scribbling cards and sticking on stamps to get our holiday wishes in the mail before the 24th. I was thinking about was how the form has changed, even if the desire to share has not. Today, we’re ever-more instant in our personal reportage. Ace your golf game – text-message your buddy to rub it in. Get your homework done in a flash – IM a friend to check in. Have photos of the big fish that didn’t get away – post ‘em on flickr. Have an idea? Blog it. All of the above… put it on Facebook.

It’s not that we’re communicating less. It’s just that our personal news comes and goes in bits and sound bites now. We share it quickly, like a hot potato, as if by letting the moment simmer it will lose value. That we might pause and reflect on our comings and going is, like, too much effort, too much looking back and not enough “what’s next?”.

So, I miss the annual ritual of reflection that came in those cards. I regret that we too did nothing more than “touch base” this year as we whirled through the address book to get cards in the mail. If anyone reads this blog and remembers – remind me next year to put it in a letter.

The next Kennedy

The news that Caroline Kennedy might enter the political arena as the next Senator from New York, replacing Hilary Clinton, has me feeling mixed emotions.

Ever since she chose to steer clear of direct public exposure—choosing to work on the sidelines, but in enough public view to maintain her visibility and clout—I have been among the ranks who are inspired by her example, her decision not to get down in the trenches, her … well … unique separateness. It has been, I think, a source of her strength as well as a big part of her continuing mystique. She’s not a dilettante. She chooses her battles, and wages them quietly but effectively, whether for the New York education causes or as head of Barack Obama’s vice-president search committee. And despite the extraordinary push/pull that must always be there in the Kennedy family to assume one’s place in public life, she has kept her distance and led a quieter life.

Now, whether because of Ted K being on the wane or because of the inspiration of Obama, or maybe because her kids are grown and she can more freely devote herself to life in Washington, Caroline Kennedy seems ready to step up to the plate.

Don’t get me wrong. I have always thought of her as the most capable of the extended collection of Kennedy and Shriver kids. I don’t know her, and have absolutely nothing but her public persona to go on, but I just feel that she stands head and shoulders above the rest of her family’s generation.

But do I want to see her go into public office… to run for public office… and all that entails? I just don’t know… Yes, I would like to see her rise up and carry on the work and champion the causes that her uncle is beginning to relinquish. There is no one else who could do that (conversely, I shudder at the speculation that Ted is positioning wife Vicki as heir apparent for his Massachusetts seat). Our the country could be a better place for having Caroline Kennedy on the Senate floor. In fact, much of the world would cheer her arrival in our legislature and as a presence on the world stage. Her stature is simply that great.

Yet, I wonder if she could do just as much good off the campaign trail—step up her public prominence, perhaps, maybe assume a leadership role on some national or global foundation. Maybe I just have trouble dispelling the image of the little girl playing under the desk, who grew into the graceful person she seems today. She’s a quiet force right now. Does she really need to join the fray of public politics?

Lost in space

The past week’s events in Mumbai, India, in particular the way ordinary bystanders participated as “citizen journalists” in reporting the terror-attack events as they unfolded via online services such as Twitter and Flickr, got me thinking about how I use Web 1.0 and 2.0 tools, and how I am beginning to feel a bit pixilated in my online activity.

First a small step back… I have been messing around with Facebook over the past few weeks. It started as an experiment in child monitor (mine, not yours!) but has quickly, and remarkably easily, blossomed into a daily activity almost as necessary as checking my e-mail. And therein lies the quandary. Is Facebook the straw that could break this cyber-camel’s back?

Assuming I remember them all, I have cyber selves and accounts at:

• Hotmail – my day-to-day e-mail account.
• Gmail – for my personal-business e-mailing.
• CCICrosby.com – where I handle e-mail for my job.
• Facebook – At my new best time-waster (to quote a friend), I keep tabs on friends, colleagues, and other loose connections. I’ve posted some photos. I also play word puzzle games that I find a bit annoying, but my wife got me into it. And I keep track of several blogs that I like to read.
• delicious – I use this site regularly to keep track of all the websites and blogs I need at my fingertips for work or personal interests.
• Twitter – I do have a Twitter account, though I don’t use it much. A work colleague uses Twitter often to troll for information on articles we’re planning. I just haven’t gotten into the habit. Certainly the Mumbai reporting opened my eyes to new possibilities.
• LinkedIn – Go here to see or join my professional connections and network. I’m still getting the hang of all you can do with LinkedIn from a business standpoint, and I don’t have as cool connections as my wife (she’s linked to the governor, at least one Red Sox ace, and the host of a certain national TV dance show), but I see the potential.
• weber-wise – this blog… thank you for reading.
• Amazon wish list – This is my master file of all music, movies, and books that I hope to get at some point, or simply things that I want to remember for some reason. By the way, Christmas is just around the corner…
• iTunes shopping cart – a companion to my Amazon list. Here is where I keep track of single tunes that I want to add to my collection someday. This was a hard adjustment to make at first, since I consider myself an album kind-of guy. But at 99 cents apiece, I can adjust. I often shuffle music ideas back and forth between iTunes and Amazon as my whims and priorities change.
• Peapod – I love this service, which lets me grocery shop online and have someone else lug in the heavy bags. And the site’s database keeps track of everything I’ve ever ordered, so I can do all my shopping in a few quick clicks.
• MySpace – Mostly dormant at this time (you’ll see, I have basically no friends here). I set it up last year, partly as a cyber exercise and partly to keep tabs on my son, his friends, and my brother.
• Second Life – OK, I’m really adrift here. I created a character this summer (named Spyder Wirefly… cool, eh!?) but I find it darned difficult to do anything. I had a heck of a time modifying my avatar’s appearance; I can barely figure out how to get to the site and move around; and communicating with others…? Maybe I’d be better off living my second life as a mute! The notion of earning Linden dollars, buying or selling stuff, conducting business, running a presidential campaign, or any of the other interesting options you hear about on Second Life… well, let’s just say I’m still learning to do that in my first life.

Seeing it all laid out here, the list is pretty awesome. I remember only five years ago being impressed that I was part of an active listserv. But managing it all demands time and patience, as well as a certain degree of “here I am” ego. It’s no wonder I don’t write in this blog more frequently, or that several of my sites are less that robust. I’m really actually fairly busy at work, thank you, and at home I’ve only got so many hours to give over to my cyber life. I know it will sort itself out and some of these services will fall into disuse. But for now, all I can say is, thank god for bookmarks.