We’ve read it. We know it. Social media companies are selling our data. We agreed to let them. Yes, the fine print might have been too fine, but it is there, plain and simple, when we click the box to accept terms and conditions. But can we unring that bell?
“What if we said good-bye to social media for good?”
I can hear the reluctant cries already:
“How would I know what’s going on?!”
“But I wouldn’t be able to get in touch with anyone!”
“How would I promote my pyramid scheme?!”
OK, so nobody is self-aware enough to yell the last one… but wouldn’t it be great if the were? Seriously. Stop.
Those resistance cries are the other part of why I’m leaving social media for good as of December 31st, 2018. When’s the last time you had a meaningful conversation with someone on Facebook? Or actually heard the voice of one of your Instagram friends? Exactly. Never.
I realized that the reason I am feeling so disconnected is because I am. Social media is giving me the illusion of connection, not the real stuff. I get enough of an indication of human interaction to satiate my basic needs without the gratification of anything real. And I’m NOT OK with that.
So, I’m leaving all social media platforms for good. I decided after the last round of journalism exposing the degree to which Facebook and Instagram are selling my data. I realized that if I wasn’t getting anything worthwhile from these platforms and they were making money of my data and they are manipulating my exposure to information, it is just not worth it.
Because ultimately, our eyes are the commodity here. Our choices are what these people are trading in. And what do we get out of it? The fleeting buzz of a handful of acknowledgements from bots and people we’ve never met.
I announced that I was leaving Facebook at the end of the year a month or two ago. I downloaded my data and made sure I had the contact information for people I wanted to keep in touch with. And then the most peculiar thing happened. I died.
OK, I didn’t really die, but it was as though I had. I started receiving eulogizing comments and messages lamenting my impending departure. I received emotional good-byes. Poetic farewells. It was all quite touching, this outpouring of well-wishes. But I don’t know that I really deserve them, I am afterall still going to be around. I’m still available by email, or mail, or *gasp* yes, even the phone.
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash
But there is something there. It will be as though I am indeed dead and gone to the majority of people I’m connected with on socials. I know I’ll likely never reconnect with the vast majority of the “friends” and “followers” I worked so diligently to accumulate. And I think that’s OK with me.
I’ve already phased out Facebook entirely. That one wasn’t so tough to be honest. It has been a wasteland for awhile now. But as the Instagram exit deadline approaches I become more and more aware of it as a creative outlet.
I love photography. I have taken pictures since I was a teenager. I came across a photo recently of myself in an absurdly oversized men’s wool coat with a camera slung around my neck on my High School football field. I forgot that I took sports photos for the yearbook. I remember spending hours in the noxious fumes of the darkroom in college. I have boxes of “artistic” black and white photographs of streets and elaborate sets I created. And now when I look back at my feed I see nearly a decade of my life expressed through photography.
So I guess that is what I’m taking with me. That is what I got for all the money Facebook has made off the back of my data. Off the skin of my eyes. That I, like many others, enjoy expressing myself through images. It’s not much, but it’s more than I ever really got from a room full of strangers and bots clicking a clump of heart-shaped pixels. So, I’ll take it and be on my way. See ya, socials. It’s been real… er, virtual.
Photo by Tim Marshall on Unsplash
Written by Lindsay Goranson for Mid-Century Everyday
It is often referenced, but do you know what a Yule Log is? The history of the Yule Log is one that goes back ages. And I do mean AGES. So, I won’t get into that here, but if you’re a mid-century oogler (and I know that you are), you’ve likely most often seen them as a centerpiece! So I thought with company literally on the way to your house at this very moment, we could make a festive centerpiece for your holiday table.
Photo by Lindsay Goranson for Mid-Century Everyday
Customarily you would gather nearly everything you need from your yard or from a family walk or hike. But I had company on the way, so I ended up posting on my neighborhood Facebook page asking if anyone had a holly bush I could get some clippings from and a good sized log. I had an astonishing number of neighbors reach out saying I could cut their whole holly bush down!
Living in Nashville, my access to evergreen trees is nearly zero, but luckily our neighborhood hardware store is selling trees, so I asked if I could have some boughs that had be trimmed from trees. Bam. Greenery! Just like for my holiday wreath, here.
Everything else came from Goodwill. You know what they say. Use it up. Wear it out. Make due. Or do without! {cont…}
Written by Lindsay Goranson aka Miss Monday for Mid-Century Everyday
Dear Miss Monday,
I’m having my extended family over for Christmas dinner this year. I’ve got a perfectly classic dinner planned, but I’m worried about my pie crust! All of my vintage cookbooks have great pie recipes in them, but I usually opt for the crust in the freezer section in fear of something that tastes and feels more like cardboard. Are there any tips that might take me to the next level of Betty Crocker bakery?
Thank you!
Always Crumbly in Cincinnati
Dear Ms. Cincinnati,
You are not alone! There are a lot of classic home bakers that fear homemade pie crust above everything except the ever towering soufflé. In fact, every book I have in my vintage cookbook hoard dedicates pages and pages to pie. After all is there anything any more mid-century than apple pie?
Photo taken by Lindsay Goranson for Mid-Century Everyday
OK, maybe Eames. Or starbursts. Or… OK, there are a lot of things more mid-century. But pie is pretty dang classic.
Well, I’ve got good news. Everyone can bake a perfect pie crust every time with just a couple of quick tips. And you can do it in advance, so not only will you be ready for the day of, you’ll have time to pop by the grocery if you end up with a pie crust that’s declared war on your perfectly mid-century holiday table. {cont…}
Continue reading at Mid-Century Everyday
Written by Lindsay Goranson aka Miss Monday for Mid-Century Everyday
“Dear Miss Monday,
I just got married and all of our wedding gifts have been so beautiful and sweet. But one gift has been causing some dispute in our home. We were sent a beautiful decanter for our brand new bar cart. I keep telling my new husband to fill it with his favorite bourbon, but he disagrees that it’s supposed to hold liquor all the time. My research on the subject comes from watching Mad Men and their office bars and constant daytime cocktails. His opinion comes from a friend of ours who he says always has “dusty tasting drinks.” So can you settle this? Is it classiest to keep the decanter filled or wait until we’re drinking?”
—Bartending Bride
Photo by Lindsay Goranson for Mid-Century Everyday
Dear Mrs. Bride,
No one wants to raise a dusty drink in celebration to newly vowed nuptials! But decanting your booze may or may not be the culprit of off-tasting spirits
Decanters were originally used to get your booze out of the barrel and back to your home (or get your wine sans sentiment). But because spirits are a finished product by the time they reach you in the bottle there is not necessarily an advantage or disadvantage to keeping that fine aged whiskey corked OR decanted. I’ve seen it said that a 15-year-old scotch will always be a 15-year-old scotch. No matter how long you wait to open it.
However, not all decanters are created equal. Which could crack The Case of the Dusty Drink. There are two factors that might contribute to a dismally decanted spirit. The stopper and the scrub. {cont…}
Continue reading at Mid-Century Everyday
Written by Lindsay Goranson aka “Miss Monday” for Mid-Century Everyday
“Every time my [family member] comes over on holidays they talk about how dated everything is and needs to be updated. How do I get them to understand about my love for vintage and keep quiet?”
Photo by Julia Steele for Apartment Therapy
A home without well-crafted furniture, streamlined design, and pre-loved decor? I can’t even imagine it. It’s too horrible.
Although in reality most people do live surrounded by relatively contemporary furniture that likely didn’t need to be darned, de-wobbled, or deeply sanitized before nestling into. Not everyone has a taste (or the constitution) for the stuff. And honestly, thank goodness! That means there’s more for just us! {cont…}
© Heather LeRoy http://www.heatherleroyphotography.com
What does your ideal city look like? Affordable housing? Strong employment opportunities? Great schools? Public transportation? Green spaces? A vibrant arts community?
The 2015 Mayoral Candidates for Nashville, TN were invited by Beth Inglish McMillian and Nashville Creative Group to do just that, imagine their ideal city and discuss the value and experience of creativity.
Together, the candidates and the creatives, were given construction paper, pompons, soda can tops, and pipe cleaners from Scrap Made Art to envision what could be possible in cities built from scratch. As the dust settled on the new skylines of riverside cafes, green spaces, museums, schools, business centers, and bike paths there was an opportunity to sit and talk about plans for the future of a real creative city, Nashville, TN. {cont…}
© Heather LeRoy http://www.heatherleroyphotography.com
