Showing posts with label Lifestyle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lifestyle. Show all posts

Saturday, December 1, 2012

Oh Deer!

It was sometime in the mid-nineties when I was driving my new car on a small university road from my home to my lab that I hit a deer.
My lab's building was on top of a mountain. The drive up was through the woods and the season was a picturesque Fall of rural Pennsylvania. It was before 9 AM. The valley was clear and crisp, even now all I need to do is- close my eyes to put myself there and feel the air on my face.
The morning drive was the favorite part of my day. I rolled my window down a crack so just enough of the breeze blew across my face and rustled my hair.

A few minutes before the hit I saw deer on the road. This was when I was still in the valley, where there was no traffic, when the deer suddenly came from nowhere and raced straight across the road, about three blocks ahead of me. I had never seen herds of deer come out like this. It was usual to see a deer or two at dusk, their eyes reflecting in the headlights. The herds usually stayed in the woods. These galloped and jumped on and off the roadside fences in tight lines of twos or threes, back into the woods. Awe. It was a show.
I stopped until they passed and went my way. At the posted limit of 30mph. A half mile later, I heard a thud. My car jolted. I didn't see anything. I pulled over. The front of the car was bashed up. Huh? I looked around and only then saw the deer. It took me a few seconds to realize what happened. Oh no. A lone, straggler deer.

The deer was lying on the other side of road. It was struggling to get up on its feet using strong upward jerks but couldn't raise itself up and was lying back, tired. I tentatively walked to it. The size was something I had underestimated, it was very big. The tall, strong antlers were cutting sharp angles in the air as it moved its head with the effort of getting up on its feet. I went closer. Denial and horror. The deer was looking at me as I approached. Its eye had a diffuse expression, of pain, confusion and being wary of me. There was no blood, no external injuries. 
Deer smell came from it. Its taut body gave off a powerful vitality that filled the area. Then, just like that, it quietened down. I looked away for a second for something I don't remember why and when I saw again, it was very still, its eye became glass-like with no expression. The smell and the feel were all still there. It was unreal. In less than a second it became lifeless, as I stood watching.

****
My car was ruined. My husband had just bought the car for me and we had driven it back from Chicago. That I got locked inside a lonely rest area in Ohio during the long drive didn't feel like a story anymore. The red car had 10k miles and was used-new (what we could afford). My old Honda had been giving me all sorts of trouble and with the winter approaching we figured I needed something that could take me up and down the mountain at day or night.
No one was in at the lab to talk to me. I couldn't just leave the deer there. I looked up the nearest police station.  I don't know why I couldn't just call, somehow I had to go there and tell somebody, file a report or something.
I called Chicago from the lab, he wasn't home. We were a long distance couple, he was working and I was going to school, living alone. Mother-in-law answered my call (in-laws were visiting).  I told her about the accident and that I was going to the police station to report the deer. She got flustered, that I was going to a police station. It even became a source of worry (it isn't safe for women to go alone to police stations in some places in India).

Fall, there. (..a lousy pic)
A policeman came to the window and took my account.
Where is the deer? he asked, genially.
Still there, I said.
He seemed satisfied. We'll send somebody.
That was it. There was nothing to do.

I hit a deer, I found myself telling anyone who came by, the entire morning. There was coffee but it did not help.
Later that morning I happened to be working with two workmen from facilities, the only two for our building. We were standing near the power supply cabinet of the floor and talking about rerouting some wiring for my reactor and I told them too, I hit a deer.

They were listening so I gave the details.
Oh yeah, it's hunting season, they said. The deer were probably running away from the hunters.
Ah! that explains the mad herd-crossing. Then they asked where the deer was.
You left it there? Didn't try to take it?
Which confused and surprised me. No? Why?
Oh, you can make deer stew, deer this, deer that, deer sausage…. they went on about a list of things from parts of body, reminding each other with happy interest and telling me. The meat keeps through winter and stores well in the freezer, they added.
I am vegetarian, I grew up like that, my parents' cuisine had no garlic, onion and even radish, I did not say. It's not that I was a stranger to meat. My previous roommates cooked meat, all kinds and forms and sometimes fish with beady eyes stared from the refrigerator. Even made faces at me. But that was fish or meat from a package. This was a deer that, err, I killed (in an accident, but still).

Oh, someone must have already taken it away, they added ruefully.
How will they ... my voice trailed.
They take it to the deer processing shop at the corner of this-and-that where they process and cut up the meat for ya.
They continued to talk about the deer. In the hallway, in their name-tagged dark blue uniforms. They were tall, burly men and I was a petite. They had German-Dutch ancestry like many in the area and were of strong faith. I must have seemed very different to them (not just in size) but it did not show at all. They were courteous and pleasant even when asked at rare times to give a hand for heavy work in the lab, which was not part of their job. So, deer-hunts and deer-meat were a way of their life.
The deer was gone when I drove back home late in the evening. A few days later I drove to the corner of this-and-that and saw from the outside, the said deer processing shop. (we did not have Google Maps at that time).

then..
****
Life eats life. That's how it is, right? We eat other life forms to live. Other life forms as in animal or plant origin or both. But nevertheless a life form in one way or the other.
But here's the thing – hunting, killing and then eating an animal in the wild somehow seems... balanced. Part of natural law. Responsible living. Personal courage. Forced respect for other forms of life that feed us.
As opposed to food through faceless consolidated large-scale farms and processing facilities. From where food arrives in packets and we do not give much thought as from where and how it got to us. This last aspect increasingly becoming a source of concern for reasons of health and humaneness.
Our perceived scale of consciousness of our food sources, animal or plant, seems to play a small role for most of us, compared to our cultural and personal food preferences.

The native Indians here used every part of the buffalo they hunted and killed only what they needed. Mark Zuckerberg (of Facebook) eats only what he kills, is what I have read. There must be others who follow this to different degrees.  On the opposite side, there are those who hunt only for sport and leave the carcasses to rot.
But not everyone in this overpopulated earth can have access to grow their own produce in a garden or raise their own animals in a farm or find a place to hunt or fish.  Even small, local sustainable food sources or co-ops are still a rarity and are mostly expensive.

****
Nature's Balance is a topic in my son's lessons at this time. Last week we read about The Return of the Wolves to Yellowstone.
It described how the wolves were hunted down to elimination by 1927, how the food chain changed and the ecological balance got upset over the next few decades. There were no wolves to kill and eat elk, so the elk population grew, they ate too much so new trees did not grow, the bird numbers went down, the beavers almost disappeared. The coyote population grew, smaller animals got hunted down and they ate too many pronghorn fawns. Someone had an idea to reintroduce the wolves. So things are changing towards a more balanced animal population numbers.
We also watched some videos of wolves hunting elk. I asked - So dear, what will happen if the wolf population at the top of the food chain goes out of control?

Or like Earth, I added later, where things are out of balance. Because of human overpopulation at the top of the food chain. 
But, I also said, we can try for a responsible lifestyle. Use only what we need. Be deliberate, close-to-ground in our choices, in our thinking. That way we are respectful towards nature and in doing so, hopefully, to ourselves.

..now, his hand on mine
****

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Spot the Difference!





Tomato and Basil were part of our summer science project. The baby tomato plant (~4 inches in height) wilted for a couple of days after re-planting before getting comfortable in the new soil and pot. The basil was quicker to adjust.





The wilting started as summer began to end. The plants dried and died as weather got cooler.

A life as long as one summer, sprouting buds and leaves with vigor, under the sun and sky as if each summer day was ever so timeless.

*****

Sunday, November 6, 2011

At the Farmers Market

The Farmers Market in our town is on Saturday mornings. It is in the downtown. While buying produce I sometimes chat with the farmers. Once, one said he woke up at 3 AM, picked the corn, loaded the truck and here he was. He had the tired but content look. Corn is at its sweetest when picked in the early hours.
Rythu Bazaaru are the same in AP, India. Every city boasts of a few and every town has at least one. Rythu = Farmer, Bazaaru = Bazaar, Market. Fresh produce directly from the farms all around. From the growers themselves.

Ever noticed how earthy and alive the farmers look? Irrespective of their location and economic level, they exude the vitality of living close to earth and of a meaningful livelihood. Sadly, not all can make ends meet, in either country.

Here is a picture story of one morning in our Farmers Market.

******
Rise and Shine
******
Into the sunny stands we come, take us home...




















The advantage of going to a market over here apart from the obvious is the chance to buy produce free of pesticides but not yet certified as organic. Which means we pay less for the same. Some products can only be found in the markets, or the quality is very high- homemade bread, concord grapes, medjool dates and if you like, sauerkraut. If you not a vegetarian unlike me, you may like: fresh fish, cuts from the ethically raised and eggs from free range birds. You can tell the quality of an egg from the brightness of the yellow, I was once told by a farm girl.

******
Some farmers...



******
Odds, ends and more...

Catch me if you can









Jingle the money box
Here comes the music man, the music man...









Tipping time

Free samples..
******
Closing time...



















******
Look what I did.

Spot the difference: Where did the used OJ bottle on the closed up trash come from?
I increased the entropy, that's all I did. Okay, I removed the bottle later. But the entropy still stayed high, right?

*******

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Daisy Day

(This post was originally published in June.  Editing of picture sizes caused reposting by blogger at this later date).

(Reading Time: ~5-10 minutes)
In our backyard is a small rectangular bed cut into the brick floor. It is home to a low shrub of daisies. The bed erupts with flowers every April. Late spring it is. For a whole month, the daisies become the life of the backyard.
The daisies have a short season. Within weeks the flower density falls. This repeats every year.  Daisies are part of the Asteraceae family. These flowers show different moods depending on the time of the day. Here they are, all in the course of one day.
                           
                                                             *   
Dawn
Daisies are beginning to open their petals. Wake up, wake up, it is time.


                                                                 *

Morning, around 8 AM
Feeling the sun's rays. (The sunlight takes a while to stream into our valley).

                                                                 *

Mid Morning, around 11 AM
The daisies are fully open and smiling at the sun. 


                                                                 *

Post Noon, around 2 PM
Looking tired. Notice some of the petals bending backwards, perhaps because of the living and working in the strenuous heat. 

                                                                 * 


Around 4 PM
By this time we start losing sunlight in this north-east corner of the yard. These pictures show the bed at a demarcation between sunlight and shade from different two angles. It appears as if the daisies in the shade are finished for the day, letting relaxation set in and the ones in the light are still working on their photo-chemistries.


                                                                 * 

Around 5 PM and 6 PM
Closing shop.


                                                                 *

Dusk
Good Night.

                                                               ** 

The weather in our area on the day I took these photos was-
Saturday, Sunny with Partial Clouds
Humidity: 24%
Wind:  N at 12 mph 
Temperature : 56F - 73F
                                                               **
Genetic coding in the daisies enables them orchestrate their movements with the sun. While the family of asteraceae move in a dramatic manner with sunlight; other species of plants and animals, and sea-life that dwells in water layers that sunlight penetrates have evolved to synchronize their food procurement and rest patterns with the sun's energy in less obvious ways.
Technological advancement and the thrust of civilization has put us in a place now where we can eat and sleep, have light or darkness whenever we wish. How this gradual change in behavior manifests in our biological systems is a personal curiosity. 

                                                               ***  

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

A plate of Pulihora

Reading time ~ 5 minutes
Recently our homestead had Pulihora for a birthday (not mine).  It was finished up by evening.
Pulihora
Pulihora can be plain or extra flavored with raw mango or with crushed roasted sesame or with ground mustard.  I make ours mild with slight changes to suit our lifestyle and taste, such as: soaking the peanuts overnight- it makes them more nutritious and less allergy inducing. Using oil sparingly while cooking but sprinkling with olive oil in the end- has never affected the taste.  Using Basmati rice- less starch per serving and looks nicer.  I use tamarind from India, especially for special dishes because the one over here is dark and gives a strong blackish-brown color.  Interestingly, the batch I now have is organic, is exceptionally good and the juice exudes all the goodness of bioavailable vitamin C.  The ginger use is heavy without overpowering- it  can certainly fulfill the daily requirements of an adaptogen even for a T-Rex!  Lastly there is  lots of  turmeric- oozing all the goodness of the antioxidant value it carries.

No feast or festival is complete without the Pulihora in AP, whether in Kosta, Rayalaseema or Telangana.  Dainty and delicate, it is a favorite of all age groups.  Though sometimes frowned upon because of its omnipresence, it is certainly appreciated after one leaves home.  Oh, and it is different from the Puliyogare, its other south Indian cousin. 

***
Some tides, summers and supernovas ago, the in-laws had visited for the first time.  We all went out for the day on a Saturday.  It was late in the evening when we stopped for dinner at an Italian eatery.  It was a first with this cuisine for two people in our group.  Fettucini Alfredo, which can be unusual to the palate of coastal town-ers of AP, was tasted by the Fa-inlaw.  After the first spoonful his eyes searched and spotted the black pepper on the table.  He sprinkled it so that the creamy white Fettucini Alfredo became...... black!  We were all tired and intent on food so after eating-

Umm, I think it is unusual to sprinkle that much pepper... I said, sort of.
He was genuinely surprised.  Why, is it wrong? he asked, concerned.
No, no, nothing wrong, I replied
Just that it is somewhat nice to eat a cuisine in the way that culture would perhaps like us to. My reasoning sounded weak even as I said it.

A few days sprinted.  One day, I went to an Indian graduate students potluck lunch.  After I came back I casually mentioned to the Mo-inlaw that I saw another girl (wife of a fellow student who was Gujarati) help herself to Pulihora on a plate and earnestly pour Sambar over it before eating.

The Mo-inlaw was shocked.  Her jaw dropped.
Now I understand. Now I understand, she declared.
What what what? I asked, surprised
What you were saying then- it is nice to eat each cuisine in their own way!
She was still stunned at the unintended sacrilege of the mighty Pulihora when she said to the Fa-inlaw-
No sprinkling with pepper like that again, ok? If they make their food bland like that, we will have eat it like that only.

Even after some summers and moons had passed, the Fa-inlaw still chuckled about the time he made a black Fettucine Alfredo.

*****

Monday, June 27, 2011

Mirror Images


Reading time ~ 4 minutes
Haunting time < 1 minute

Being different is not easy. Integrating a different-self into the uneven waves of civil society is no mean task. The bigger the difference, the more each step needs to be measured out, so as to carve out even a small, fragile personal living space.

Equality remains elusive at various levels be it because of color, race, gender, orientation, physical attributes, food habits, age, sickness, neurology, different-ability or economic strata.
Anyone different can pose a challenge to the average-minded to change in turn, so as to cope. Confronted with change, the average can meet, ignore, ridicule or oppose the challenge. Change is seldom easy.
Access to equal opportunity despite being different is rarely achieved without a struggle and has historically followed a non-linear course.

The motivation to change as a response arises if someone we care about is/becomes different (not counting oneself). We are forced to make sense of our place in life within the new reality.
Changing our ways for sake of those who are different is harder when the security of a personal/societal value system of right/wrong begins to feel shaky. Value system redefinition is never trivial: identities and resources need re-mapping. Also, inertia can tend some towards inaction.
At the tail end of the main reaction, passive or even active ridiculing can appear. Ridiculing the different happens when the acceptance is shallow to begin with, never wasting an opportunity to go one up at the expense of an available target. We may be actually mocking our own inability to change.

It is very conceivable that something we accept as very normal now may in future be deemed unacceptable. Or vice versa. All because of a not-easily-flexible right/wrong value system.

*
What if it is not so? What if the value system is somewhat flexible? And being different poses no challenge to anyone? If there are no metrics systematically pin-pointing the different among us? Wait, then, how to define who is same? Weird. For-
Doesn't the standard idea system define both- ugliness and prettiness? beast and beauty? We cannot have one and not have the other.
What to live by, if there is no system. When no abstract definitions exist? When there is no way to differentiate our feelings towards a blooming rose and an overfull dumpster.

*
Moving around, there is love and anger. They arise from a systematic core of desire. Love, when we feel we are getting what we desire and anger and when we sense we are not getting what we desire (sadness is a variation). The important thing is that we desire. Indifference is when we don't desire. Then there is nothing to go by.

Anger – Love
Pride – Embarrassment
are Mirror Images
It is wondrous when one image changes into the other. The opposing change is dismal.

On the other hand-
Matter – Antimatter.  Poof.  No more universe. No system at all.

*******

Friday, June 17, 2011

Twitter, I am.

Part 1

Reading time ~ 15 minutes
(A non-chronological sequence is this)
Not too long ago, I said something funny to my audience of one. Then the thought of bettering my dues in laughs pulled me to Twitter. I opened an account. My remark is now saved virtually, in my favorites. But not before Twitter-I-am1 came knocking, looking for me.

Twitter is not the trend at the walls where our holes are. There is some disdain. What? Something wrong with you? is the look one can get at the mention of a Twitter account. It is quite natural. Why, the sun shines everyday. And most of our i's and t's have well-laid avenues and pavements for the dots and crosses. The air is crisp and drinking water is from a spring.  We have no need to expend extra excitable energy in the virtual world.
So I went back to my audience of one, praised Twitter and viola! the husbn had an account and I had a follower. It took some convincing though. Convincing myself. Twitter-I-am had to come knocking again.

  Would you like to tweet
    in a house?
     Would you like to tweet
       with a mouse?

**
First, I followed some organizations, columnists and people reporting on politics, arts, sports, cultural satire, science and some friends. For an organization or a new person, a short trial period gave a better idea of what to expect. My timeline (where incoming tweets sit) seemed to have the full spectrum of information, refreshed constantly. Within a week there was enough information to fill my cup and a mason jar to last an entire year. I had to learn to live/tweet in the moment, each one made of 140 characters.

Twitter is happy haunt in circles tied with a common interest. School, mountaineering, entertainment industry, sports, news, bodybuilding, social commentary, philanthropy, quail-egg counting and so many more, like stars in the sky. Apart from basic communication, the general aim in a tweet is to say something profound, funny, silly, sarcastic, wise, smart and the list goes on. The followers of a person can Retweet (RT – resend a tweet to their followers) and the loop continues. 

(The following is a conversation between the animated, 2ft tall Twitter-I-am and myself)
         I-am-Twitter!
         Twitter-I-am!
                     That Twitter-I-am
                     I do not like that Twitter-I-am.
         Would you like to be on Twitter?
                     I do not like it, Twitter-I-am
                     I do not want to be on Twitter.
 (Twitter-I-am runs off and comes back)
         Will you like it Here or There?
                    I would not like it here or there
                    I would not like it anywhere
                    I do not like Twitter, Twitter-I-am
                    I do not like it, Twitter-I-am.

**
Celebrity tweeters can get a sizable follower count even from the word go2. We feel like we are part of their success just by following.

Consider CR7:
578 Tweets - 51 Following - 3,254,395 Followers – 34,718 Lists
His tweets are no sweat- Hala Madrid!, Match tomorrow, Good Game today, Watch us today....  He doesn't really need to do anything more, his talking is on the field. For one Hala Madrid! he got a few thousand Likes on his Facebook linked to Twitter.  Interesting.

Stephen Colbert. His numbers are:
1679 Tweets – 0 Following – 2,393,338 Followers – 41,046 Lists
He follows nobody. How funny.  Colbert received the Golden Tweet Award for 2010 (For a Tweet most Retweeted within a time frame).  Nice.

President Obama works harder in Twitterdom (or his staff):
1,374 Tweets – 695,689 Following – 8,678,662 Followers – 145,530 Lists
He follows so many people? Say, if an upstart warlord in Ghazni starts following him, is he obliged to follow back?
Celebrity Twitter avatars however are one-way streets. Their tweets are usually outgoing. Response to incoming tweets is limited and understandably so. Their Twitter use is more like mass emailing.
 
**
    You may like it.
      You will see.
        You may like it
          in a tree!

The 140 character limitation sets Twitter apart: the social interaction is set in a pulse mode. But the heart of Twitter lies in the followers. If a person has a small group of well-meaning followers and they are networked (they follow each other to a degree), we then have a system that creates an interesting audience voice. Any conversation one has with another can be followed by all others who follow both, in real-time or otherwise. To add to it, anyone can chirp in.

Doesn't this feel like the culmination for civilization? An audience for everything! Our egos desire acceptance, praise and all such glorious perks and here is an audience for any idea, banter or witticism however trivial or thoughtful it may be. The audience echo can turn drivel into wisdom and lack of the echo can make dust of either. We can take our audience with us wherever we go. We are the heroines and heroes of stories of our making. Move over, reality shows and staid entertainment.

But there is a catch. The nature of virtual communication is inherently limited, especially if the other person is known only via Twitter. We only have the typed words and the mood that the typed words convey with the contextual history of the person and the topic. The complexity inherent in non-verbal interaction as in face to face communication is absent, as is the full range of possibilities in feelings, from glee to grief.
Then there is the attention span: using a small screen size of a gadget on the go can constrain extent of focus. The 140 character limitation goes both ways, while it discourages a discourse, it forces succinctness. Lastly but most importantly, there can be a loss of mindfulness in daily living if our thoughts are occupied by what to say in the next tweet, propelled by the desire to feed and be fed by the Twitter audience. 
These are not entirely new issues. Addiction to the high of something intoxicating has always been with us and self regulation is still the mantra (along with lifestyle and genes).

**
My DP (display picture) is where my picture gets displayed. For all to see. Ayyo! I wanted a real photo, not a cartoon or anonymity. I felt having my picture can help being just me, especially in a high wit and information flux zone as a Twitter-field.
I could not settle on a DP and even on a handle ID (account name). Too many choices, too much Gemini (...not!). Expectations were off.  For example, I expected Seth Meyers to respond with a Thank You to my tweet that he did well at the White House Correspondents Dinner.  

**
According to Wikipedia3, Twitter Inc., a private company for mobile social networking was founded in 2006 and is headquartered at 795 Folsom Street, San Francisco, Ca. It now has 450 employees.
One of the co-founders is Jack Dorsey, born in 1976 and brought up in St. Louis, Missouri. Dorsey mentioned he had the basic idea of Twitter while writing computer programs for taxis, couriers and 911 while working for a dispatch company during his schooling at NYU. Much later, he introduced the idea of using SMS to communicate with a small group during a day-long brainstorming session held at a playground. Issac Stone, a co-founder and Jack Dorsey apparently wrote Twitter's prototype in two weeks.
Evan Williams, a co-founder, was earlier involved with Blogger, which was bought by Google in 2003. The terms blogger and blog were devised by him. Listed as a businessman, Evan Williams grew up in a farm in Nebraska. He left the University of Nebraska after a year and a half to pursue a career. Noah Glass, an entrepreneur, was revealed as another key figure in the creation of Twitter.

A major break was in 2007, during the South by Southwest festival (a music and film festival, spread over a few days) in Austin, Texas. Plasma boards were setup and guests used Twitter to communicate with each other. The user range increased from 20,000 to 60,000 tweets/day during the event.
The company started selling ads in mid 2010 and generated an annual revenue of $45 million. Twitter's valuation following selling of some shares in March 2011 was at $7.8 billion. An IPO is expected sometime in the next few years.
An estimated number of 65 million tweets are generated by 200 million users everyday. User retention rate was estimated at 40%.

**
    You do not like it
      So you say
        Try it! Try it!
          And you may.
           Try it and you may, I say

             Twitter-I-am!
               If you will let me be,
                 I will try it
                  You will see.

Two days after I opened my account I had a second follower. A stranger. I went in to see who it was and realized to my dismay that the follower had an agenda. He was from marketing&sales and most likely expected me to follow him back. Other than that he could not have been interested in my tweets. Sorry, Jose, I don't need to shop. It turned out that many come that way, though their camping time varies.
Public Radio International became a mutual follower (they followed me back). It is very heartwarming to see PRI's DP on the screen and I don't want to ever unfollow. Sometimes I feel like it though, when the tweet levels increase. But I don't want to get a call from Ira Glass asking why I unfollowed PRI. I would love a call from him anytime but not for a misdemeanor. 

**
The statistics of Twitter users are interesting. Wikipedia3 cites from a number of sources the following- New York City has the highest number of Twitter users, 5% of Twitter users account for 75% of all activity (Sysomos, 2009), women use Twitter more than men and so on.
San Antonio based market-research firm Pear Analytics analyzed 2,000 tweets over a two-week period in August 2009 into:
  • Pointless babble – 40%
  • Conversational – 38%
  • Pass-along value – 9%
  • Self-promotion – 6%
  • Spam – 4%
  • News – 4%
Pointless babble was re-termed as social grooming by Danah Boyd, a social networking researcher.  Jonathan Zittrain, Professor of Internet law at Harvard said (and I concur) that “The qualities that make Twitter so inane and half-baked are what make it so powerful”. Social impact studies are underway (see Part 2).

Consider this tweet or a micro-blog: Today my cereal is crunchy
Depending on context, the above tweet can be considered pedestrian or philosophical. Context rules over content. Trite or Tao. Your choice...

**
While the statistics above are interesting, I will ask another question  -
Who would most likely not use Twitter? And why?

One would not be interested in Twitter if there is no pressing need to take a business/marketing/sales agenda to a larger base. Then there are those who are not in the need or not able to seek out a virtual group for interaction. For example, if a woman comes home to a evening of beer&TV after working 7-4 in a taxing construction job or the farm, or a man comes home to children, homework and dinner after working 8-5 in an office, he and she can possibly have no space left or the need to seek a virtual audience. Their energies have been challenged for the day and the evening is the time to slowly wind down. Even otherwise, a person may have a personally rich life: work, family, social and spiritual that gives fulfillment enough to not seek a virtual audience.
There are also people with no access to wireless, with bare or no literacy skills, or busy making ends meet while handling 2-3 part-time jobs, in poverty or even homeless. They are rooted in the real world.
Lastly there is the matter of privacy. If unprotected, our tweets are visible to all. Even though they can be deleted from our end and we can close our account, privacy may be an issue for some.

Overall, in any location, when three qualities- Access, Literacy and Personal Need for a virtual audience are all high, Twitter user rate can be high.  The point I take away is that a certain section of us are most likely to use Twitter. The cross-section of this likely-Tweeter group has many similarities: mostly urban or urbanized suburban, educated, above average moneyed, with time and energy to want to spare.  The locations and cultural backdrops vary.

**
At the end of the day, however, I would prefer a conversation with a like-minded friend or the occasional stranger in a sunny living room, rather than Tweet. Why then, are you on Twitter, you may ask. The quick answer is perhaps in the adventure and curiosity for information 140 characters at a time. There is no time to suit up in layers. One has to say what one means.
But honestly I really don't know, it is more like this- Twitter is new for me. So I got into the pool. Or was it the work of Twitter-I-am?

 Say!
   I like Twitter
    I think I like it, Twitter-I-am
     And I would tweet in a boat.
      And I would tweet with a goat....

         I will tweet almost ANYWHERE
           I do like Twitter, for now for sure
            Thank you,
              Thank you,
               Twitter-I-am.

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References
  1. Twitter-I-am is a character based on Sam-I-am of Green Eggs and Ham of Dr. Seuss.
  2. The Twitter data is as of June, 2011 
  3. Twitter on Wikipedia 
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