Syndicate: The Mob, Publishers, Columnists, and Me

So here I am on Skype, Twitter, Facebook, Linked-in, with a blog [TheGrownUpsTable.com], a website [CustomUniformCompany.com], and emails. I'm a Syndicate.  I'm told that this is what I have to do in order to "participate."  If I want to write, hobnob, "connect with people;" blow my own horn, introduce myself to the world. Tra la. What ever happened to the "Coming Out Party?"  I thought people were supposed to come to meet me (invitation, only, of course), rather than I having to extend and meet them...  I guess social media is just that.  Only I give my own party and introduce me to you. Hello, out there!  

Once, the Syndicate was about Al Capone and the Mob.  The big boys in the killer "zoot suit with a drape shape and a reep pleat;" fedora pulled down low over the eyes, wide lapels, pinstripes; a machine gun hidden in the violin case, and cement shoes to be worn in the East River if one didn't pay up on time.  Yes.  "Da boyz" who were stationed here and there with their icy fingers reaching across the nation, creeping in to folks' pockets for the murderously desperate payola.  Drugs, booze, prostitution, and dough--bigtime. The Syndicate.

Or, there are the monolithic publishing houses:  Remember Citizen Kane? Great movie.  Yes.  William Randolph Hearst, San Simeon, and the Hearst Corporation: Harper's Bazaar, Seventeen, Esquire, Town & Country, Cosmopolitan + books, TV, newspapers. Conde Nast, and the vast empire of New Yorker, Architectural Digest, Wired, Vogue and more.  Today's world is about technological delivery via APPs instead of a stamp and bulk mail. But syndicated is still syndicated.  In this newsstand, or that grocery store. Fashion, food, computers, news, entertainment; what's posh or smashing, new and different, in this world.    Multiple mags, multiple pages and layouts, appeal to multiple types. Syndicated.

Columnists were published along with their periodicals when the newspaper was king.  Remember Art Buchwald, Dave Barry, Erma Bombeck?  Louella Parsons, Drew Pearson, H.L. Mencken? Syndicated in every paper that was worth reading.  Today, some of the greats include Dennis Prager, Charles Krauthammer, Thomas Friedman, Robert Samuelson. The comics, of course. A ubiquitous name across the country's printed page that means "quality, reliable, familiar and famous."  Syndicated:  Income, fame, speaking engagements, opinions worth discussing at the dinner table.  Can I look forward to this?  Gee...

Yes, at last, I'm my own syndicate.  Only not by choice so much as necessity. Splattered all over the place.  Instead of fame and fortune, however, I'm struggling like mad to keep up with contacts, sites, and responses.   A desperate attempt to appear interesting, clued and tuned in, infinitely wise, witty, and without another thing to do but connect & communicate.  I don't get paid, don't get recognition, don't get someone to do my editing, layout, or P.R.  I can never remember where I put my book of passwords.  The only thing that's "coming out"  is my waistline from sitting so much in front of the computer.  But yes, I'm it.  The new syndication.  Me, myself, and I: The Syndicate.