When Joe asked “are there social media tools and apps for which you once had high hopes that you now find yourself using and visiting less often?” – I knew I was in trouble.
I have a hard time with commitment. Especially when it comes to online applications.
You see, I loved once. And then I inevitably lost.
Shopping carts crashed. Design changes eliminated the features I preferred. The site’s coders fell behind the curve. The executive team burned through the first round financing before the AOL ad buy had a chance to drive buyers to the site.
That’s right. I haven’t felt loyal to an online app since early 2001. Even this blog has been on three different content management systems.
Just a few weeks ago, a widget developer emailed me to ask why I had dropped their app from this site. And sounded a little sniffy about it.
Ummm, because I wasn’t really committed to it? Our “relationship” was hollow and false and wholly self-serving on my part?
Sure, I installed the app because I thought my readers might find it useful. But I dropped it as soon as I realized it didn’t fit into the new design grid for the block.
I’m just a gigolo, baby. I’m looking for the short term hit, the thrill ride.
After all, it’s not like you’re invested in this relationship either. There’s an awful lot of chatter about monetization, exit strategy, buyouts and acquisitions. I know, you try to keep that talk for when I’m out of the room – but I hear it anyway!
Sure, you’ve hired a community manager. You’re rockin’ the CRM software, tracking installs, monitoring comments and tweaking your look.
Know what you don’t have? Time. Time to give me. To care.
I’m not a next big thing™ kind of guy. I don’t need to feel invested in your success. Your market share has nothing to do with my skills, obsessions or weaknesses.
When it comes to online social media apps, I’ll grab on to something that’s functional and serves my needs. Is your app weak in some respect? Giddyup, I’m doubling up!
Come on, you know it’s true! Ask any social media nerd about monitoring. Eventually, they’ll all admit they’re pulling a train behind your back. It’s the only way to keep on top of things.
But don’t cry, baby. Know what’s magical about a gigolo? Where there’s no commitment, there’s no sense of entitlement. No conviction that you owe me – we stuck through the hard times together!
You’re not going to get late night emails from me, complaining about how you’re never “ready” anymore. I won’t post minute-by-minute narratives about my experiences with your customer service crew. I won’t marshall all the social media tentacles at my disposal to whip up a micro-frenzy about your obvious failures.
Because, obviously the thinking goes, if you’ve failed me, your loyal and vocal follower, you’ve failed everyone.
Not so for the gigolo.
I’m just glad about the good times we shared together. Hopefully, you didn’t embarass me during a demo. Maybe you surprised me a few times. Even though I’ve dropped you off my favourites, I’ll still drop by every once in a while, just to see if you’re still around and good for a spin.
And I’ll always be grateful – that I didn’t have to pay.