Good Timing. Sometimes.

Timing can be good, or bad. Usually, at least for me, it is bad. Last night, though, there was that exception to the rule, when timing was perfect. A welcome exception to the rule, I must say.

The plan was to see two movies at the Independent Film Festival Boston at the Somerville Theatre, ”The Way, Way Back” at 7:45pm and then at 9:45pm the documentary “The Punk Singer” about Kathleen Hanna. There was also a free ticket available for me to see Josh Rouse live at the Sinclair. The Man, had won two tickets and he was going to be at the Sinclair before me. He was going to ask if he could leave the second ticket at the box office for me to pick up, and text me the details. Rouse was going up at 10pm, so there was the chance I could catch his full set.

“The Way, Way Back” started 15 minutes late, at around 8pm, which meant it would go until 9:45pm. That was cutting it close. At 9:30pm there was still no text from the Man. The movie was almost ending, but not quite yet. At 9:38 I got the text, that he had my ticket and I would text him when I got there, so he could meet me at the door to hand me my ticket. A couple of minutes later the movie ended, and as the credits started rolling, I rushed out (which by the way, is something I hate doing, I always want to see the credits. Also, the movie is hilarious, I recommend it).

There was a gazillion people in the lobby, but I had to be quick. It was 9:45pm, the exact time “The Punk Singer” was supposed to start. It looked like there were seating people, and I had heard that it was sold out. I went to the rush line outside, where five or so people were standing. I asked if anyone wanted a ticket to the Punk Singer, the first two people were together, so they wanted two, the third one, a woman, needed one. I sold her my ticket, and the seconds it took her to find the $10 bill in her wallet, felt like 10 minutes. I was sorry I was going to miss the documentary, but I hope it will be shown again at some point in my area, so I can eventually catch it.

With the ticket sold, I ran to the T station right next door, tried to get through the gate, but I didn’t have enough money on my Charlie Card. It sounded like a train was coming, I added value, went through the gate, and as I was running down the stairs the inbound train was opening its doors.

I got on the train and sat down to take a breath. OK, good timing, I thought to myself. Harvard Square is only two stops away from Davis, so it was a quick train ride, and at that moment I thought how great it was that all the cool things I wanted to do were so close to each other and so close to where I live. North Cambridge, I love you!

I got off at Harvard, went up to the Church Street exit, walked down Church Street. At that point I realized I had never been to the Sinclair before, so I didn’t know exactly where on Church Street the entrance was. For some reason I thought it was next to the Fire+Ice. I went in through that door next to the Fire+Ice, and it looked like an office lobby with elevators at the left side. OK, not the entrance to the club, I thought. Through the doors straight ahead and to the right, I could hear music, but the doors weren’t labeled or anything, they looked more like exit doors. Nevertheless, without thinking much, I went to one of the doors ahead of me, I pulled, it opened, and just like that I found myself inside the Sinclair, with a couple of surprised people looking at me. OK, that surprisingly worked, I thought. The stage was ahead, and no one was playing, so that was good, I hadn’t missed any of Rouse’s set. I went to the right, where the bar is, and then I saw the entrance next to the bar. Good to know where the actual entrance is, for future reference.

Josh Rouse was still not on stage, I texted the Man to see where he was, but the text wasn’t going though. I started looking around, I saw him standing by the bar, and I went in front of him and went “BOO!” He was like, “What, how did you get inside, I have your ticket?!”, and I told him the whole story. It was like I went to that show for free twice, not only did I have a free ticket, but I had also made it in with no ticket at all. Which could very well mean that I used up my free-entry-to-shows quota on the same show, but what can you do.

We got beers, settled closer to the stage, and in a minute Josh Rouse and his band came on stage and started playing. It was a great set. We took the T to head back to Davis, and as we made it to the platform the train was pulling in to the station. We got on the train, sat down, and there was a quarter on the seat right next to mine, like a tiny goodbye gift concluding a good day. Perfect timing, or what?

One week later

It is now eight days after the Boston Marathon bombings of April 15, 2013. It was a beautiful day, and here in Massachusetts we were celebrating Patriot’s Day and a peaceful event, the Boston Marathon. The beauty of the day was interrupted at 2:50pm, when two bombs exploded while runners were still crossing the finish line. Bystanders were killed and injured.

I was getting ready to go play tennis, and after reading some alarming tweets the TV was turned on. The TV news was talking about possible bomb explosions. They showed an empty Boylston Street close to the Marathon finish line. A news helicopter was flying overhead and you can see the red sidewalks, colored red by innocent people’s blood. There were reports of dead people and injured people missing limbs. It was awful, this is Boston, a peaceful, open-minded city, we’re not in a war, why is this happening here?

It was all horrible. It could have been me, it could have been my friends. Like many times before, I could have decided to go down and watch the Marathon up close. The first reported victim dead was an 8-year old, and that turned my sadness to anger. What kind of a world is this when you take your 8-year old to watch the Marathon, and what you are left with is his dead body?

More questions were coming up: who did this? Why would anyone do that? This is terrorism, the enemy is unknown and is targeting innocent civilians. We started speculating, it must have been Muslim radicals, or perhaps white supremacists. But, to me the big question was, whatever your agenda is, how attacking innocent civilians can achieve anything? Who will side with your cause, who will sympathize?

The following days when authorities were trying to identify the suspects, I got angry with the people of 4chan, reddit and twitter who took it upon themselves to identify the suspects, drawing simplistic conclusions, manipulating photos of the bombing scene adding circles around the faces of people they had determined were the culprits. It was disgusting to see them taking it upon themselves, even naming people, who later turned to be innocent. The comments on those sites were pathetic “see this person is running away from the scene, it must be him!”, when everyone around them was running away too, because, you know, an explosion just took place a couple of feet away. The authorities had asked people for tips, clues, information. If you had photos or videos, the authorities had requested that you sent them over, they hadn’t asked of the public to solve the crime. There is a reason why there are authorities, procedures and experts in place, this is not some lawless land, where the masses and mobs can determine the guilty. All those alumni of crime TV shows and movies, took it upon themselves to point the guilty out, and they understandably failed.

On Thursday it was determined by FBI and local enforcement authorities that the bombers were two young men of Chechen descent. I thought that was strange, since as far as I know, the US is not involved in Chechnya. We started learning more about them, they lived in Cambridge, they liked sports. It was revealed the older one, 26 years old, named Tamerlan (after the great Asian warrior, I assume) had become a radical Muslim, saying he doesn’t have a single american friend because he doesn’t understand them, and the younger one, 19 years old, had tweeted “a decade in America already , I want out.”

The young brother Dzhokhar Tsarnaev became an American citizen the same day I did, on September 11, 2012. I recall that day and how everyone was happy, because the country we liked and decided to make home, had accepted us as its citizens. I wonder how Dzhokhar felt that day. Perhaps he wanted out already.

The thing about immigrating in this country is that no one is forcing you to stay here. Myself and plenty of others have immigrated here, because we wanted to. If you do not like it here, you can leave. I cannot fathom why someone’s radicalism and frustration must turn into violence against their fellow citizens. The Tsarnaevs would have made a stronger and more fitting statement if they had gone back to Chechnya and fought their battles there. But, I suppose it must have been difficult living in poor, oppressed Chechnya. Here in America everything is free-er, easier.

I missed the incidents of Thursday night. Friday morning at 6:30, my phone rang. It is always something bad when you get a phone call so early in the morning. It was an automated message from the City of Cambridge, advising residents to “shelter in place” due to the on-going police activity in Watertown. I turned on the TV to see exactly what was going on, the fifth consecutive day of “breaking news”: the older brother dead, an MIT police officer dead, shoot outs in Cambridge and Watertown, carjacking, the young brother on the run. I was watching what had happened the night before in Watertown, seemed unbelievable that the young brother could have escaped the shootout and so many police officers. Why wasn’t he captured already?

The MBTA was shut down, no subway or buses were running. I didn’t go to work. Massachusetts Avenue was eerily quiet, nothing looked like a Friday morning. I had the TV on, local news kept recycling their stories, as there was no new development. In the afternoon I was wondering when they were going to capture him, how munch longer can we live in a lock down? The lock down was extended to the City of Boston, which I found a little bit too much. Perhaps it was the unfamiliarity of our law enforcement with situations like these, so we tended to overreact. I was thinking that he has to be found soon, most likely he is injured and weak, and he is not a career criminal to use sophisticated methods to elude the police. How far could he go? As the day went on, the lock down felt oppressive, like living in a city at war. At 6pm the lock down was lifted, while the suspect was still at large. A couple of hours later he was found hiding in a boat parked on a Watertown resident’s back yard, and breaking news once again: “Suspect captured”.

There was relief. We could go out again. And this little bastard could do no more harm. I wondered why so many police officers on the scene did not methodically search backyard sheds, garages, boats around the initial escape location. Why was it that a resident saw blood in his backyard and his boat and called the police? The suspect was arrested and put in an ambulance, his face looking bloody. The crowd’s relief turned into celebration, which struck me as a bit premature, flags, cheers, U-S-A U-S-A chants, parents holding their children on their shoulders to cheer.

I think of the many people who were injured from the blasts, who have a long recovery road ahead of them. For those there is little relief. Their lives altered forever, like the lives of those who have lost loved ones. I appreciate how everyone rushed to help any way they could, civilians, first responders, Marathon volunteers.  Solidarity, humanity. I did my little part too, I donated to The One Fund, which was set up to help the victims of the bombings. I also appreciate the efforts from all law enforcement, who analyzed clues, tips, data, photos, video. Who did their best to apprehend the suspects and had one of their own seriously injured, who protected the public and had one of their own killed.

Cambridge Police regularly posts this on twitter: “be informed, not afraid.” I like this message. The violence the city saw does not make me afraid, but makes me more aware. I have chosen to live in this city and the area, because it is safe, peaceful, because there is no violence. I am not going to allow an incident like this to make me feel unsafe. But I also do not want to see any violence again ever, not here, not anywhere.

The Babbler

Here’s a thing about me: I don’t like talking much, and I am not a big fan of people who talk much. In a world where the ruling law is Murphy’s, approximately 80% of the people in my office love to talk. They tell seemingly endless stories, and by the time they reached the end I have lost any interest and I am spacing out compiling my grocery shopping list. They are the kind of people who when you tell them oh, yes you told me that story, they will still go on repeating the story anyway. They are the kind of people who will go on talking to you when  you are opening the office door to get out. You step out of the office, close the door and they keep talking. When there is no audience, they talk to themselves.

People who love to talk are pretty often in a chatty mood. So, they come into your office and casually drop a  how is it going. You are not really in a chatty mood yourself, so you reply fine without even looking at them. Then they will go on asking questions you have to reply to.  You give short replies just to be civil and you don’t ask any questions back, however, they still fail to see you don’t want to engage in a conversation. It seems there is an undying hope inside them that you will eventually ask them something, and they will get to share one of those endless stories of theirs. It is almost that their attitude says “I’m Bored. Entertain Me”. Perhaps someday I should talk to them about that amazing thing called the internet. It is not that I am absolutely opposed to chatting, I am fine with someone sharing things, but I hate it when the expectation is for me to do the talking, when in fact I’m busy, or I hate talking.

These are the same kind of people who will say hey, do you want do lunch today, you say sure, and then they ask where do you want to go? And when you say I don’t know I haven’t thought of that, they say OK, think about it, and tell me what you would like. Are you serious? YOU ask me to lunch and now you are expecting me to do the thinking, and essentially provide solution to your problem? Is it so difficult to throw a couple of suggestions out there with your initial question to get the conversation going?

I don’t know if this is still the same kind of person, but I also dislike the person who will call you on the phone, will start yapping without allowing a single word from the other side, and then suddenly announce OK,  I need to go now. Oh, sorry, don’t let me keep you with my silence. Please. Do. Go.

Oh, and now I’m on it, allow me to rant about the perpetually “helpful” people. The ones who volunteer to help, when it is not really their job or their business, then promptly fail to do anything useful simply because they can’t,  and then complain about the fact they have to do everything and they are the only ones trying to be helpful. Hey, “helpful” people, if you minded your own business someone else might have been able to be of help, instead of “help”.

Worst (potential) customer service

I go out to lunch, dinner or brunch at least three times a week, and thankfully I do not have many restaurant horror stories to share. Of course, I have had my fair share of indifferent or forgetful waitstaff, or rude hosts, or bland dishes. But overall when I go out to eat the level of service I get is decent.

Last night I had my worst restaurant experience, and I didn’t even have to step a foot in the restaurant! It was around 5 p.m., and as we were driving back to Cambridge, we wondered where to go to dinner. I suggested going to Strip-T’s in Watertown. I had been there once before, and I liked it. With all the snowstorm interruptions, I thought  I’d check their website to see if they are open before we drove all the way to Watertown. I googled the restaurant name on my phone, and the search result was their website, which showed on my phone as http://www.stripts.com “Strip-T’s Restaurant… 93 School St Watertown, MA 02472. WELL WILL [sic] BE CLOSED…” I clicked on their website, but it went to a general page without any updated information. I clicked around to other links to see if there was any information related to the “WELL WILL [sic] BE CLOSED”, but since I didn’t see anything I decided to call to see if they were open.

A man answered the phone. I said hello, and asked “are you open for dinner tonight?” And this is how he responded: “No, we’re not, I just like coming here and sitting around and having beers with the boys ’cause I don’t have anything better to do.” Pause. What. The. Hell. Then he said: “I am being sarcastic.” I said “Yeah, very funny”, and hung up. Wow.

Dude answering the phone, really?! Whatever the hell your problem is, I am pretty sure it wasn’t me. So, when I ask if you are open, just say “yes, we are” or “no, we are not” and that would be it. The end. Simple, isn’t it? If you think you are being clever or witty, you are not, you are just being rude. If you are not in the mood to answer the phone, have someone else answer the phone, or have an automated phone system with options for hours, reservations, etc. If you want to be sarcastic, you can do so with the boys while drinking beers. I didn’t call to ask if your restaurant is open because I didn’t have anything better to do, or because I wanted to chat or experience your talent for sarcasm. I called because with all the snowstorm interruptions plus your crappy website that shows no updated helpful information, I thought I’d better check.

Seriously, what the hell. Who interacts with strangers like that, let alone potential customers?  That was the most rude and uncalled for response I have ever received. But if that was their plan, they surely found a pretty effective way to turn away potential customers. Well done.

The blizzard of 2013

The blizzard of 2013 was not technically a blizzard, but it was certainly a big snowstorm with strong winds and 26″ of accumulated snow — in Cambridge at least. (It wasn’t a blizzard because the wind and visibility criteria were not met. “By definition, a blizzard occurs when the following happens: winds reach a sustained speed or frequent gusts of 35 miles per hour at the same time the visibility is at or less than one-quarter mile due to snow or blowing snow.”)

Even before the first snow flake fell we knew it was going to be a big storm. TV, radio, on-line media was going crazy about the storm. And when it comes to weather events I just get sucked into the hype. I normally do not watch much TV, but when there is a storm coming up I can’t get enough of the weather forecasts. I mean, all of the weather forecasts, on every channel, non-stop. But in the end Harvey Leonard on Channel 5 is my trusted weather source. What I didn’t really get into was the name Nemo: I guess the Weather Channel started a thing where they name snowstorms, and this one was named Nemo. Hurricanes do have official names, but to me unofficially starting naming snow storms is a little too much.

The forecast was calling for the storm to start around noon on Friday, so the office closed at 11 a.m. I went to Whole Foods to get a couple of things, and it was so busy, it looked like a Market Basket wannabe. It started snowing lightly on Friday afternoon and intensified on Friday night into Saturday morning. In addition to the standard snow emergency procedures that go with a forecast of 2-foot snow accumulation, the Governor of Massachusetts issued a travel ban starting 4 pm on Friday, virtually banning all travel from all the roads in the State. The ban was largely heeded, and anyone breaking the ban would be subject to $500 fine and up to a year in prison, we were told. Travel ban aside,  I had to go from North Cambridge to Spring Hill in Somerville and back, and I had to drive. So I drove. The streets were eerily quiet, the empty streets coated with snow. I saw people cross country skiing and a few people walking around. Driving down Highland Ave I found a deserted street, with flashing lights of police cruisers and plows, and a couple of lone figures trying to walk against the wind. Thankfully I wasn’t stopped by the police. And even if I were, I had prepared a list of excuses to get away with it.

The winds picked up late Friday night and the snow was coming down heavier. When I got up on Saturday morning everything looked blanketed with snow. Mass. Ave and the bike path were completely covered by seemingly deep snow. It was bright and beautiful. People were walking and cross country skiing along the bike path.

The travel ban was still in effect until Saturday 4 p.m. When I went out for a walk in the afternoon it was quite nice to see people enjoying the snow, kids having a blast. Seven Hills Park at the Davis Square T stop turned into a snowmen park. No cars on the roads meant people on the roads. Walking on the street was much easier than walking on the sidewalks which were pretty much still covered by almost two feet of snow.

The wind drifts created 4 feet high piles at some places. Walking on Highland Ave you could see people had started digging their cars out, cars completely covered with at least a foot of snow. Some side streets looked like they hadn’t been plowed at all. Even where the streets were plowed, the travel lane width was reduced. And trying to clear the snow off sidewalks, driveways and cars did not get any easier as there was no room to put the snow.

I finally made it to Spring Hill in Somerville with my right hand almost frozen. I helped shovel a sidewalk and driveway, and actually that was my first time shoveling.  The snow was light, but still my shoulders and upper back got really sore. And that made me appreciate the fact that my car is parked in a parking garage and the sidewalk around my building is shoveled by a crew.

Later in the evening I walked to Harvard Square, and it was quite something to walk around the quiet city. Everything looked beautiful covered in fresh white snow. But what I enjoyed the most was the silence. Walking everywhere made me think of our ancestors, who at some point in our history did just that, they walked everywhere.

On Sunday things slowly started to return to normal. More plowing, more shoveling, more digging out. Mountains of snow in every intersection made driving and walking dangerous, and you could see dump trucks hauling snow away. It is now raining, so the snow is getting heavier. Most catch basins are under feet of snow, and the streets are already looking messy. This week is supposed to be rather warm and there will be some snow melt, but I wonder how long it will take for the last of the 26″ of snow to go away.

2012 Year In Review

Here we are on the last day of 2012. A year that went by fast, and looking back, it was a mix of good and bad. Now is the time I am looking through my notes to see what happened in the year expiring soon. Here’s a summary of what fun things I did, what I liked and didn’t like, and the notable things that happened in my life in 2012:

Movies: I counted them all, in 2012 I watched 83 movies, that is an average of 1.6 movies per week. During the Independent Film Festival of Boston I would see up to three movies a day, but generally I go to the movies at least once a week. It turns out this year I saw plenty of classic and old movies at the Brattle, and finally did the wise thing and acquired a Brattle membership, which saves me some money. The movies I liked best this year were ‘The Kid With A Bike’, the Belgian movie by the Dardenne brothers; ‘Jiro Dreams of Sushi’ a documentary about the Japanese sushi master Jiro Ono; Wes Anderson’s ‘Moonrise Kingdom’; the offbeat, different ‘Safety Not Guaranteed’; the heart breaking ‘Take This Waltz’; the tough and incredibly moving ‘Oslo, August 31st’; the touching ‘The Perks of Being a Wallflower’; and the fascinating documentary ‘The Imposter’. A quick note to mention ‘Lincoln’ for the superb acting by Daniel Day-Lewis, and Paul Thomas Anderson’s ‘The Master’ for the visual beauty. I also liked a lot Bradley Cooper and Robert De Niro in ‘Silver Linings Playbook’. The movie that creeped me out the most, made me feel extremely uncomfortable and wish I had not seen was Pedro Almodóvar’s ’The Skin I Live In”. Oh, and I am not seeing ‘Les Miserables’ because I absolutely hate musicals.

Music: I went to 18 live shows this year. Some shows stood out, like the Radiohead show, the Mogwai show, which finally happened after two prior cancellations, and the Saint Etienne show at the Paradise, where everyone was dancing happily away. I saw the most interesting lighting and staging at the Grizzly Bear show at the Orpheum. The worst show? The Jesus and Mary Chain, no contest. The Paradise still remains the best venue in the area to see live music. I just wish it was located somewhere in Camberville. I can’t say there was a band or album this year I adored, but I did listen to some music I liked a lot, like Tanlines, Alt-J, Beach House, Lower Dens and Beach Fossils. After seeing Frank Ocean and the Dirty Projectors making everyone’s best music of the year list, I tried to listened to them, but I find them unbearable. Frank Ocean’s music is plainly boring, and the Dirty Projectors singer sounds like your friend who keeps singing along to every song he hears, and he is always off-key.

UPDATE: I can’t believe I forgot to mention this but my favorite song this year was Japandroid’s ‘The House That Heaven Built’. Yeah.

 

Theater: Not too much theater in my life this year. I mostly went to plays my friend TMB was in, like ‘Measure For Measure’, ‘Waiting For Lefty’ and ‘Anne of the Green Gables’. I also saw an interesting production of ‘Uncle Vanya’ at the Apollinaire Theatre in Chelsea, and David Adjmi’s ‘Marie Antoinette’ at the ART, a play I found was trying too hard to be witty.

Art: I visited the ICA and the MFA a couple of times each. I liked the exhibition Degas and the Nude the best, because I really, really like drawings. Really. Also at the ICA I saw Sam Green’s live documentary ‘The Love Song of R. Buckminster Fuller’ with live music by Yo La Tengo. And I love Yo La Tengo.

Food, Drink: I liked Casa B in Union Square in Somerville, a space with unique and pretty cool interior design and delicious tapas. I finally made it to Santarpio’s where I discovered the best pizza in town. I also liked Strip T’s in Watertown, West Bridge, and Belly Wine Bar in Kendall Square. I was impressed by the food at the Garden at the Cellar, which might be Cambridge’s best kept secret. The food is amazing, how come I didn’t know? I also paid many visits to iYo the new frozen yogurt place in Davis Square. The square will soon be fro-yo central, as a second fro-yo place opened, and there are plans for a third. I had some very good cocktails at Stoddard’s downtown, and at Brick & Mortar in Central Square.

Travel: Nothing extraordinary travel-wise. I spent three lovely days in Provincetown, I love this happy and laid back place, and the amazing beaches. Speaking of beaches, I discovered Duxbury beach this year (the best beach area is south of the bridge), pretty much one of the best beaches around Boston (sorry, North Shore beaches, no comparison, really). I went to Greece for a couple of weeks to see family and friends, eat well and swim in the Mediterranean, and that’s always pretty neat and relaxing. I also visited my brother and his family in Germany. I finally got to meet my nephew, who is a very cute baby, and got to see my niece again, who is a very cute toddler.

Exercise: In the beginning of 2012 I found myself ten pounds overweight, and ten pounds is a lot for a person of my size. I had a hard time shedding off the extra pounds just by eating less. So, I started eating less and exercising more,  the magic combination that always works. After hating running for as long as I remember, this year I followed a 5k training program, and after eight weeks I was pleasantly surprised to see I could comfortably run 3 miles. I participated in my first 5k race in December, and completed the race in 28 minutes. I also started taking tennis classes, and I loved it. I can’t wait to start new classes again. I biked a lot, as usual, and I took a bicycle repair class at the Broadway Bicycle School.

A couple of other notable things from 2012: I refinanced my mortgage and once again discovered how inept the people who work in this business are. After twelve years of living here I finally decided to apply for citizenship, and became citizen on September 11. I voted for the first time, and was happy with the results. I got to meet Elizabeth Warren, the new senator from Massachusetts, so now I have met both Senators from MA in person. Oh, and being a citizen means I can now run for office, but don’t worry, I don’t plan to.

In 2012 I experienced some disappointments, but no reason to talk about that now. I do not have any major new year’s resolutions, but I will definitely try to do certain things different: I will try to visit places I haven’t been to before. I would love to have someone willing and able to travel with me, but I am also willing to travel by myself. I will try to read more, and after many years I have cancelled my New Yorker subscription in order to free up time to read the untouched books in my bookcase. I will try to get back to creative things I used to like, like drawing.

Above all, in 2013 I will do my best to find time for all the small and big things that make happy. Happy New Year.

Bye bye Instagram

Instagram published their new terms of use yesterday going in effect on January 16, 2013, wherein they pretty much stated they can use the content you post on Instagram however they please, including selling it to advertisers. But don’t worry user, you still own the content. Brilliant, isn’t it?

Instagram started as a fun way to post-process photos with standard filters and share photos. I followed a bunch of people, and had fun looking through their photos, “liking” photos I, well, liked, or rolling my eyes when it was yet another photo of someone’s boring & bored cat, doing nothing exceptional or cute. (Cue the internet’s collective gasp in horror.)

But there came a point when things changed. Facebook bought Instagram for a cool billion dollars, but you knew the fun would end once facebook was involved. Starting last week Instagram photos were not being displayed on twitter streams, requiring clicking on the Instagram link to see the photo. And now the updated terms of use, which copy those of facebook, will make me stop using the service.

Yes, sure it is a free service, and they can have whatever terms of use they want. It is up to me, the user, to decide whether I accept them or not. And, sure owner facebook has to make money somehow. It is just that the way they are trying to make money is rubbing users the wrong way. It is a sneaky, indirect way. I suppose it would be OK if they just showed ads on my stream like FB does, but deciding they can sell my images because I am using their service is pretty disagreeable. Under the new terms of use, I am not using Instagram anymore. That simple.

I am now back to using flickr only. I’ve been using flickr much longer than I’ve been using Instagram, and I always posted my instagram photos on flickr too. flickr has certainly a different feel from Instagram. On flickr I am not that much into “faving” photos, or having too many contacts.  When I first started using flickr I didn’t use it as a social media tool, but rather as a central storing place. I see it more as a place to have all my photos I want to share with other people. I choose to pay for a pro flickr account. I pay $25 a year, I have unlimited photo and video uploads, unlimited number of photos in photostream, no ads. Plus the flickr app was recently updated with post-processing tools such as filters and basic edits, and there is an obvious turn to make it more of a social media and sharing site.

As I set my Instagram account to private and will never use again, I remember another service I liked a lot, but is not anymore, upcoming.org. That was a pretty cool free site where users were posting upcoming events and shows, and you could check what you were attending, as well as see what other users were attending. But then it was sold to yahoo!, and it got ugly and full of ads, and I don’t think anyone is using it anymore. On to the next thing.