The ConverStation

tree peony, originally uploaded by samatt.

The people have spoken. It is officially “The ConverStation.”

I thought the name might be too clever by half. You begged to disagree, and the majority of your comments favored some variation of “Converstation.”

I guess we should all be thankful for that little typo.

Now comes the rub. I failed to anticipate a scenario in which the number of votes for a variation of a specific name would outstrip the supply of shirts. My contact is almost maxed out, so if I divvied up the spoils, that would leave many of you with a “This American Life” gasoline rag—and where’s the fun in that?

The closest I can come to identifying a winner is Mike T., whose comments (in this thread here) inspired the convention I finally settled on (uppercase “S” in “Station”). But if you suggested a variation of “Converstation,” and really, really want a shirt, please let me know. I can’t promise anything, but I might able to locate something reasonably matched to your size.

And thank you all for participating.

Now that we got all the naming business out of the way, I guess we should talk about what this space is all about.

When I conceived of this blog, my plan was to update readers on WBUR’s online initiatives. Moreover, I wanted a space to discuss the intersection of new media and public radio, which for obvious reasons I take a passionate interest in—and have strong opinions about. But as my bloviating will quickly grow tiresome to both you and me, please plunge into the conversation and redirect it to some interesting side-roads and byways. Heck, from time to time I might even give someone the keys and let them drive. Any potential “guest bloggers” out there?

I want to hear from public radio listeners, new media geeks, or both. Anyone. Together let’s turn this into a public space where conversation takes root and blossoms in ways wonderful and unanticipated.

Sidebar: Special thanks to Samantha, whose contributions to the Listener Photo Project (above) helped alleviate ennui triggered by a thus-far dreary New England spring. Mercifully, it looks to be a rather sunshiney day. Fingers are tightly crossed.