I’ve tried to explain Twitter to people by painting a picture of me sitting in front of the television watching bad reality shows and having others “out there” keeping me company in the quiet of the night.
I’ve talked about how Twitter is great for breaking news. It’s where I first learned of Michael Jackson, Patrick Swayze and Walter Cronkite’s deaths. I’ve read of a far-away earthquake or the near-collision of local trains minutes after they’ve occurred.
I’ve seen mothers post frightened notes about their sick children, asking for the support and prayers of friends and strangers alike. I’ve been heartened when their kids bounce back, and I’ve cried when they haven’t.
So, yes, I think Twitter is more than just some dumb place for people to tell everyone what they ate for lunch or to promote their website.
Tonight, I came home from my daughter’s soccer practice feeling sad and unlikable. I had just spent an hour watching her team run back and forth across the field while my other two kids climbed on the playground behind me. But, what I tweeted was something that had affected me most:

I was blown away by the responses:

It’s like a group of people just came over and gave me a collective hug when I needed it most. Thanks, guys. You all rock.
Next practice though? I’m bringing my ipod.

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