#tweetsmart

Preface

Introduction

At nearly every conference I attend, I meet people who tell me, “I have no use for Twitter. You can’t say anything in 140 characters. I’d rather have a real conversation.” Obviously, as I’m the one writing this book, I feel differently. So, to all the doubters and skeptics, I offer the following story:

My grandfather, “Mac” McDougall—like so many grandparents—moved to Florida when it came time for him to retire. His neighborhood was a flat rectangle, carved out of fields of orange groves, and tucked in beside a maze of golf courses. His street was a flat street in a grid of flat streets. His house was a single-level brown adobe home in a row of single-level brown adobe homes. At the end of his driveway was a green mailbox. At the end of every driveway was…a green mailbox.

We would visit him nearly every winter. We’d often drive the long journey down I-95 from New Hampshire to Florida, and 24 hours after climbing into the van—as my dad drove the van through the flat streets—I would see my grandfather’s house. Even as a small child, I had an easy time picking out his house from all the rest. His was the only one with a 50-foot radio tower standing in the backyard.

My grandfather was a ham radio operator. He had received his operator’s license in 1930 when he was just 15 years old. As a teenager, he taught himself how to build his own radios out of spare parts. He then served during WWII in a communications unit, and after the war he continued to communicate with other ...