My Media Pyramid

I recently signed up for an aerobics class at George Mason University.

The class wasn't necessary for my general education requirements, nor was it related in any way to my major (which, if you're interested, is government and international politics).

Rather, I felt the need, for the sake of my own health and wellbeing, to be educated about physical fitness.

My father thought I was being very silly about all of this.

"Ethan, why do you need to sign up for a class to be healthy?" he asked. "Just head to the gym, lift some weights, and hop on the treadmill. It's easy."

It wasn't that simple, though, I explained to him.

I knew of plenty of exercise options out there, and that in a way was the problem; there was simply too much to choose from, and I needed to find something targeted.

Hence, the aerobics class.

Now I report to the campus fitness center every Monday and Wednesday morning to learn about essential nutrients and spend exactly 30 minutes on a treadmill for a total run of 2.5 miles. It's regimented. It's structured. I know what's required of me.

It would be wonderful if everything were like that.

For better or worse, though, the world is not a course on personal wellness, and in diet as in other things an individual must be able to use his discretion to determine what would be in his best interests to consume.

Media is a good example of this.

In his 2006 article, "What Is Your Media Pyramid?", Eric Deggans compares the average person's daily media interaction to caloric intake. News and analysis, he argues, are the essential fruits and vegetables that many of us neglect, whereas entertainment programs and gossip websites are the fattening sugary treats in which too many indulge.

A forthright appraisal of my own media diet shows my green intake to be wanting.

The first website I visit each morning is my university's e-mail system, which I check religiously throughout the day, scouring assignments mailed in from professors, dubious greetings from potential roommates responding to an online ad, Facebook notifications, and project updates from muscially inclined friends.

I log into Blackboard, a site where university professors can post class materials, several times throughout the day to download readings or homework guidelines.

Of course, I wouldn't be a self-respecting member of Generation Y if I weren't multi-tasking; I'm listening to a song on YouTube while I write this and have also been conducting a Facebook Instant Messenger conversation.

In the afternoon I'll typically read personal blogs, sites with little political or news value that nonetheless provide me with an intimate view into the lives of others whom I've come to know through the Internet. Many of these men and women live abroad or in parts of the U.S. I've never visited, and I find their accounts of their day-to-day activities to be fascinating.

Every few days I upload photos to Flickr, but I can be counted upon to check my photostreams's statistics several times a day.

(As an aside, my most viewed image has been visited a total of 5,534 times. It's a picture of a house.)

The early evening is spent perusing Blackboard, CNN (with discrete trips to the main page and a larger amount of time spent lingering on the Politics section), The Onion, and perhaps more blogs.

In between all of this I have been known to sneak in some actual reading from a book. The tome currently sitting in my backpack is The First American, a biography of Benjamin Franklin. During the weekends I can easily clear a few chapters a day, but when school is in session I'm lucky to get in even ten pages.

I will occasionally watch the news at night, CNN for national events and the local channel for weather, before checking my e-mail once more and turning in.

It's not the worst media pyramid ever, but it's certainly not the best.

There's just a great deal to choose from out there, and much of it is pure garbage. The myriad of media options often makes me wish that there were some sort of filter, that, as in my aerobics course, someone could lay down the line and explain what's good for you and what isn't.

Then again, I suppose that's the point of enrolling in an online journalism class.

I'm learning how to be my own personal trainer.