It started with Beanie Babies.
A friend of mine was obsessed with them. And he showed me his nascent collection when I visited.
You have to get some, he exclaimed.
Soon enough, I had a miniature plush dog named Bones. My sister had a red plush dog named Rover.
But naturally, we wanted to be as cool as our friends. We wanted more Beanie Babies.
t us the Beanie Baby guide – a book covering all the stuffed animals in circulation, and all the limited-edition options we’d missed.
At the start of the book was a disclaimer.
The collection continues to change. Go to the Ty website for a more detailed list.
And thus began my first cannonball into the waters of the Internet.
There were no smartphones back in those days. There were no Google Chrome browsers. There wasn’t even a broadband connection.
To get online, I needed to log into the America Online app on our home computer. This process would tie up our landline, blocking phone calls to the house. And it would cause a bunch of odd sounds to come from the modem next to the computer.
Once connected, I’d need to navigate to the web browser — and then enter the Ty website. The page would load over the course of several minutes, with images loading line by line for several more minutes after that.
A click to a deeper webpage – in this case, the complete Beanie Baby collection list – would start the process over. All told, I was on the web for a half hour or so before I found what I was looking for.
But eventually I got there. And I once I did, I spent several minutes – and ink cartridges —printing out the entire list of Beanie Babies. That way, I could pore through it on my own time.
The Internet was just a digital guidebook to me back then. No more, no less.
As I grew up, my relationship with the web shifted a bit.
We got broadband in our family home, and I got my own computer in my bedroom.
After I finished my homework each evening, I’d spend hours at my desk browsing.
I’d read sports columns on ESPN’s website. I’d set my fantasy baseball or football lineup. I’d chat with my friends on AOL’s Instant Messenger (better known as AIM).
But as I moved off to college, my reliance on the web dwindled.
I still hopped on to keep up with sports news, and to update my social media profile. But I now had text messaging on my flip phone, allowing me to communicate with friends on the go. And with my life centered on a college campus, I valued in-person connections over endless online browsing anyway.
The web was back to being a convenient novelty. But that was all about to change.
I sat in the lobby of the CBS Miami news station, dressed in my finest suit.
My palms were sweating as the bright Florida sunshine filtered into the room. I needed this interview to go well.
You see, I’d decided what I wanted to do with my life after my college graduation. I wanted to make a living as a TV news producer.
I’d taken most of the requisite classes. I’d volunteered on the campus TV station’s sports and news broadcasts.
But I didn’t have any true local news experience on my resume.
This internship – in the last semester of my last year of school – would be my final chance at filling that gap. I’d do whatever was needed to get brought on board.
Soon enough, I was in a conference room with Dave Game. He was older, a bit heavy-set, and came off as a bit blunt.
How much do you know about Internet news, he asked.
I replied that I’d looked at the CNN and Fox News websites before, as well that of ESPN. But that I tended to watch local news on television. This was why I wanted to be a producer after all.
I watched intently as Game nodded.
That’s all well and good, he said. But trust me. Most of the viewers of our station are not like you. They’re doing something else while the news is on. Or they’re busy and miss the broadcast entirely.
They still want to get caught up on the news, but on their own time. My department brings that to them.
He went on to explain how the web department achieved that mission. They revised news scripts for easier reading on the web. They took the associated clips from the newscast and added them to the on-demand video feed. And sometimes, they added pertinent local stories that didn’t make the local broadcast.
If you take this internship, you’ll get a hand in all that, Game told me. It might not seem relevant to you. But trust me. News stations are hiring for these skills. You’ll stand out.
His words proved prophetic.
I took the internship, gaining a mastery on Internet news reporting. When I landed a job as a news producer at a TV station in West Texas, I brought those protocols to my new station.
I’d often be in the newsroom until midnight ensuring that all articles and video clips from the day’s newscast made the website. I told myself that the viewers that missed the 10 PM newscast needed me. And I powered through exhaustion to get the web content uploaded.
The Internet was now my passion. And it would soon become my livelihood.
I sat in a modest office in a suburb of Dallas, wearing the same suit I’d once sported in Miami.
Across the table from me, the man I hoped would become my boss perused my resume.
I see you have some experience writing for the web, he stated. How much do you know about blogging?
I stated that I didn’t have much experience with that forum. But I added that I was a quick study.
That’s good, the man stated. This role is for digital marketing, which is not news production. But content marketing is the way of the future, and I think you might have the online writing experience we need.
I landed the job, and my second career was off and running.
That first marketing role revolved around websites. Specifically, the half-dozen websites of the home remodeling companies my employer took on as clients.
A web designer built those sites. But I did everything else – filling in the product pages, posting blog articles, and helping ensure the sites ranked on Google.
After a layoff, I landed with a different company that provided websites to insurance agents at scale. I started that role with 20 agency websites under my purview. Eventually, that number ballooned to 120.
The Internet had gone from something I accessed for Beanie Baby lists to the technology that paid my salary. I was bullish on its potential.
Still, I could see the buzzards circling.
The smartphone had been around for more than a half-decade by the time I started optimizing websites. And the mobile experience was improving by leaps and bounds.
Content marketing and search optimization relied on consumers perusing Google results and clicking through to websites. With mobile apps entering the fray, there was now a new way to find information.
Soon, social media channels would turn into commercial marketplaces. And artificial intelligence would enter the fray.
The web was still powerful, and my job still drove revenue. But the returns were dwindling. It was time to pivot.
So, after earning a Master’s degree in Business Administration and weathering a global pandemic, I took a new role in product marketing. And I left my website-heavy focus in the rearview.
I still browse the web to catch up on the news now and then. But less often than I used to.
There are many reasons for this shift. For one thing, I have less free time than I once did. For another, the events of the world have grown increasingly contentious.
But the biggest reason is the paywall.
Indeed, many websites now charge money for access to their information. And given my other concerns, I have no desire to open my wallet for this unlimited access.
This shift to paywalls was inevitable. Prompts to get website readers to buy related items have fallen flat as new channels have emerged for purchases. Advertising follows audiences, so those dollars have also shifted elsewhere.
Websites simply aren’t as revolutionary as they once were. They still matter, but they hardly command the lion’s share of attention.
I’ve even seen this in my own company. My product marketing position oversees the website and digital marketing products I worked on for years. I promote them, but not as vigorously as the other products under my purview.
The product pricing is too paltry for me to evangelize those solutions. And I know the insurance agents I market to care more about my company’s higher-dollar offerings.
Add it all up, and those who still rely on the web for a living are left with few options. Charge loyal viewers for access or be left withering on the vine.
It breaks my heart to see this. I grew up on the web. I built my career on the web. I still use the web to share this column with you each week, dear reader. (With no paywall, I might add.)
Still, I understand it all. The web had a good run at the top of the mountain. And it will remain in the picture for the foreseeable future.
But the next big thing is already here. And so is the thing after that.
It would be foolish not to chase after them.