I am now officially on Twitter, as @JerroldMundis.
Who’d have thought? Certainly not I.
On the other hand, when I moved my young family up to the mountains 125 miles north of the city way back in 1971, into an old lodge in a mountain valley that we converted into our home (yes, Virginia, the ’60s and ’70s were real, and some of us actually lived them), we didn’t even have a private telephone line there, couldn’t get one for another year, and the best a television set could do was bring in two channels and sometimes, fuzzily, a third.
And I was writing books on a typewriter.
So why am I now on Twitter? Well, why not? And it seems—if I wish to keep writing books (I do), and keep offering coaching (I do), and continue to help people make peace with money and come to live happily with it (which I also do)—that it’s one of the things I need to be doing these days.
And who am I to buck history, technology, and galloping change?
But the damndest thing, ever since I got on Twitter, I haven’t been able to get the refrain of the old children’s song out of my mind: “and all the little birdies go tweet, tweet, tweet.”
And of course trying not to think about it pretty much guarantees that I’ll never get it out of my head. If you want to see the lyrics to the whole song—all the little squirrels go chatter, chatter, chatter. . . all the little frogs go ribet, ribet, ribet . . . and the rest—you can find them here. And even listen to them if you want.
Maybe I’ll tweet about it.