A floppy disc in a firewire world

Web marketing is a whole new world that’s changing constantly—no longer by the year, not even by the month, but by the day.

The modern marketing generation gap goes a little like this:

a) Either you’re young, and you get it; or

b) You’re old and you haven’t got a clue what IT is; or

c) You’re somewhere inbetween and feeling increasingly confused by it.

Count me in that third category. At the age of 40, I seem to be right at the tipping point of those who are on the inside making things happen, and those who are permanently excluded from the technological popularity club.

I’ve always been savvy about marketing. Having grown up in a family of alcoholics and selfish narcissists, knowing what makes people tick has been a matter of survival. I’ve sold sell-out shows, and created markets where there were none. I’ve proven my mettle.

But that was so yesterday. Now what?

Since I’ve been doing all of TheaterX’s website work, I’ve been doing my level best to make sure everything is code-compliant for all new media (like iPhones and Blackberrys, etc), but let me tell you—it’s a virtual media shitstorm out there, and if you miss a day, you miss everything. Keeping up with it all is nearly impossible.

For instance, Facebook has become the popular social networking replacement for MySpace. When I first joined two years ago, only a couple of my young theater friends were on it, and we basically used our accounts as an easy way to share photos long distance. We ‘poked’ each other, posted comments on the virtual walls and added status updates. In recent months, Facebook has exploded in popularity to the point where I—and many other people—can’t keep up. While still largely a young-person thing (and by young, I mean the under-21 crowd) I’m finding even old friends from high school are now asking to be added as “friends”.

How much is too much? At what point do updates and so-called improvements become gratuitous degenerations of something that was once useful and relevant?

For instance, Facebook revamped its entire website a couple of weeks ago to keep up with its exploding client base, third-party applications, and security issues. The entire interface has changed so drastically that it’s become intensely frustrating for people to use. Including me.

Marketing in a new media climate that’s changing by the hour is giving me fits. Since what I do for TheaterX is only part-time (a half-hour or so a week) and the work I do for Initech doesn’t involve ANY web marketing (long story), it’s really hard to keep up with the subtle changes when I’m not immersed in it all day.

Then again, why do it yourself when you can hire a kid to do it for you?

Funny, I didn’t have to.

Some of the young cast members from our summer shows have taken it upon themselves to start several Facebook web pages dedicated to TheaterX shows. One was started today called “TheaterX Stage” inviting alumni cast members of all TheaterX stage shows to join. Funny, I wasn’t asked even though I’ve been in two of them. The kids download graphics from the official website, make the page, and the word gets out and interest grows.

The downside is, if these kids do all this free marketing of their own accord (and they WILL), I no longer have any control over the information that goes out. I’m at the mercy of whatever kid is in charge of the page and how accurately, or inaccurately, they portray the shows. The misinformation, the inaccuracies—all spread like wildfire—and there are many of them.

With social networking sites, as with life, it’s all about who you know. The event and group pages I set up don’t do nearly as well as the ones that one of these kids with 500 friends does, so I’m trying to just let it go and work within these new confines. I’m making several “Pieces of Flair” for the kids to distribute among their friends on Facebook (these virtual “buttons” with phrases or photos are extremely popular). I’m providing graphics and joining as many of the groups as I can. I’m starting new groups and posting links whenever and wherever possible.

In other words, I’m scrambling to keep up, trying to balance what I’m getting paid with what I’m willing to do for it. After all, if I’m spending all my time trying to sell tickets to the under-21 crowd, I’m going to lose the people with actual money to spend: the ones who actually have jobs. None of them have time for Facebook. Hell, many don’t even know what it is.

Which is good because trying to figure all this shit out makes me feel too old for it.