Thursday, November 20, 2008

The Internet Natives Have Gone Wild

Yesterday, our worlds' changed.¹

[¹If you a) use gmail, b) consider this small aesthetic alteration to be of worldly importance, and c) are a bit nerdy.]

After coming back from lunch, my co-worker Jillian confusingly couldn't explain why her gmail border was suddenly blue. In the span of one lunch break, everything had turned upside down.

Gmail now allowed different themes to be used. In one moment we had gone from our comforting world of white and baby blue, to moving sunsets above a tea house, Benjamin Franklin on a bench with ice cream, Zoozimps (whatever the heck those things are), and a myriad of colors.

The problem was, most of us didn't have it yet.

As friends' gchat away messages quickly began propping up describing their utter jubilation of having ninja stars now to mark important emails, many of us couldn't help but feel left out of the hysteria.




"Should I just refresh the page?"
"Maybe if I close my browser."
"I'm going to try restarting."

We all wanted to be "in" on the new phenomenon, which by all means, was utterly and completely insignificant. But as you sat there seeing friends be part of the cool kids club while you waited, one had the feeling of standing lonely on the field hoping to get picked for kickball.

All for being able to be underneath water while you read your email...

But -- At last it happened!



Before me were a plethora of colors and options and excitement. One felt like a kid again who rushed and had just arrived to the best aisle of Toys 'R Us.

I went and commented on a nerdy tech site--where even the geekiest of the geeks were still eagerly waiting to be chosen--with a remark on how the forum's users composed of likely current and former Dungeons & Dragons players would probably use the now ominous black and green Terminal theme. And the comment was marked with great approval and "diggs" by the internet community.

Cheers to valueless validation!

Still, some were left out, but we couldn't help but laughing and feeling good for ourselves for being in and selected, as we saw them in the rear view mirror, which led us to press even harder on the accelerator. An urgent conversation sprang up with my friend Steve:

Stephen: explain this theme madness to me
me: haha, yeah
it's nuts
did you change it?
Stephen: i dont even know what it is or how to get it
me: do you have it yet?
not all gmail users have it yet
you'll know when you do
Stephen: so where are these said themes
oh so i guess i dont have it yet
me: http://gmailblog.blogspot.com/2008/11/spice-up-your-inbox-with-colors-and.html
Stephen: wtf, why am i not first on this train
me: my coworker got it before me
Stephen: bs, have i had gmail before you?
me: yeah
Stephen: how do they identify who gets it when
me: ha, i don;t knw
there's one where the sun moves depending on the time of day where you live
Stephen: lol im almost legitimately upset
me: ha, several folks are mad about not having it yet
Stephen: i just dont like reading status messages of things i cant understand

Now in G-DAY+1, most folks at last have their mountain themes and are content, and the internet natives have calmed. One compared finally getting his long waited themes to being the last kid in the class to hit puberty. Odd satisfaction, while also a bit erked at the others who have long since past Go.

While the topic of yesterday's booming news was surely miniscule in importance, the frantic rush must be how folks used to feel when an afternoon newspaper came out with BREAKING NEWS, and not everyone could get their hands on it. In the era of tivo, internet blogs, and iphones, we have come to expecting instant gratification for our information.

As for me, perhaps I still long for that time. You can call me old school, but it's why you'll find me sticking with the classic theme instead of those creepy cartoon kid characters hovering around my inbox with candy.

I think inside all of us, though, is that utter enjoyment and very real yearning to be part of the rat race for what's in, whether in life, or even the desperate bounds of virtual reality.