Last Sunday, after jogging around Lake Elizabeth (yes, there’s more than geese poop), I suddenly declared that I was hungry and wanted food. Now.
Chris suggested that we go back and check on yelp/citysearch. At first, I was swayed to go back and sacrifice about an hour to find the right restaurant. But then I realized by intricately planning and detailing…the great feeling of serendipity was gone.
Web 2.0 has taken our feeling of surprise away. Although it has allowed us to find the best fare for a ticket and keep in contact with people. It also has streamlined pleasant surprises to intricately planned schedules. Is it by design though? That people have addressed the direct challenges of finding something to do and communication? But they haven’t addressed the other needs of that interaction?
For instance, I do like walking in a grocery store and touching things. I like the way the apples and oranges feel. The way I can tell by touch whether it’s the perfect kind for me. I like my mangoes almost hard and not soft. My bananas must be yellow and slightly green at purchase. No website can be that accurate and capture the pleasure.
I suppose that’s the same with social networks. Friends are no longer friends–the people you can trust. They are acquaintances–people you met once at a party and was enamored for one moment, but you added them as a friend so you could look at their photos. They are your project mates–the one you hated working with but you want to keep in touch with for job networking. Then you might be surprised to find that your advisor wants to add you as a friend. I guess my friend essay is slightly out of date now.
It’s a drop of artificiality. But perhaps there could be a movement toward…serendipity 2.0.