But Audioboo isn’t like most online spaces.

This page of blurted sentiment and opinion will probably seem a bit much to some. Perhaps I’m over reacting because something I deeply care about is threatened.

I first blogged about Audioboo four years ago, not long after it’s launch.

I embraced it immediately, wholeheartedly, and have been passionately singing it’s praises ever since. Mainly in my talks and workshops around the globe.

Audioboo, it’s simplicity and why audio is important in today’s connected world has been a major part of my talks. To the foreign office, all the political parties, the British Council, The Open University, Reuters, Aljazeera, the BBC.. Journalists the world over.

I fell in love with the way it just worked. It’s intertwining of geographic data, text, photos and audio. It has been my main digital storymaking tool for the last four years.

I have laughed, cried and shared more via audio than any other medium. All because of this one app.

And this app exists because of one person’s passion and drive. An erratic, spontaneous, unusual man. A boat rocker, a captain of inovation who is no longer at the helm.  He’s been thrown overboard.

I’m not here to martyr Mark Rock. He rubbed a lot of people up the wrong way. He has been known to explode in meetings. He’s upset me more than once, mainly on the phone and not long ago, even though it didn’t last long, I promised myself i’d never speak to him again. I soon realised how much he believed in what he was doing and this made me look at him in a different light.

You need unconventional people to build out of the ordinary things.

You have to admire what he has built, the community that’s been nurtured, the fact that he wasn’t your conventional CEO. And lets not forget his small team. That did so much on so little funding. Of all the platforms out there sharing audio, only one feels like a living breathing organism. A community made of stories.

I thought.. “With people this passionate about what they’re doing.. what could possibly go wrong?”

When I recently caught wind of what was happening inside the company, I genuinely felt queazy as I thought of possible outcomes.

This is the press release that Audioboo have sent out:

Release

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Mark Rock, the founder and President of Audioboo, has announced he is handing over all executive responsibilities to Rob Proctor, who has been CEO since October 2012.

Audioboo – a web platform & series of mobile apps focussed on socialising the spoken word through simple record, upload and social interfaces, launched in 2009 with backing from UK broadcaster Channel 4, who still remain an active shareholder. Early success with radio & news groups such as The Guardian have blossomed into key global partnerships with the BBC, Wall Street Journal, The Telegraph, UK Radioplayer and the British Library.

Investors that Rock brought on board to fund the company include Imagination Technologies plc (whose graphics technology powers mobile devices such as the iPhone & iPad), AudioGo (the company that bought BBC Audiobooks), Simon Fuller’s XiX group and a key group of angel investors including Sir Don Cruickshank.

Rob Proctor, current CEO of Audioboo, said: “Mark has done a remarkable job of creating such a unique concept and bringing it to market. I feel genuinely privileged to be involved with such a great company and amazing team and look forward to helping the company realise it’s tremendous potential.”

“I was born with itchy fingers, “said Rock, “And a stupidity to believe anything can be achieved if you click your heels together 3 times. Now that Audioboo is stable and thriving, I have the urge to click those heels again in a few new areas.”

In a personal note sent to staff, Rock wrote: “I’ve spent 4 years crafting this vessel with many of you, piloting it away from the inhospitable shores from which it launched. We’ve nearly hit open seas. A time for a captain to take over. I have, after all, other ships to give shape to that are waiting for me.”

Rock will continue as a Board Director at Audioboo and remain a significant shareholder. Relaxing with a week of diving in Malta after leaving, he so far has no firm plans on what’s next. “Let’s see. I’ve weathered taking an idea with absolutely zero spending cash, no business plan and what sometimes seemed like an odd proposition. Nurtured, sculpted and grown into a solid platform that is now attracting key visibility – not only in the UK but internationally. I’m proud of that and knowledge learnt I’m keen to embed in other ventures and partnerships.

It’s another carefully crafted document to smooth the transition of another comfortably conventional suit into his cash focused role.

I hear you say.. “What are they here for if not to make money?”

Is it only about the money? Do we invest our time, words, ideas and feelings wrapped in stories just to make the other investors rich?

When I first visited the Audioboo offices, a speaker on the wall would play people’s uploads as they hit the server. The team coding and creating below were as much a part of the community as those sharing their lives around the world.

Mark Rock and the team managed to create something really special. An ecosystem now hanging in the balance.

What kind of community are you building when money is your only focus?

If the shoddy so called update to the Audioboo app is anything to go by, the company is going to need more than a CEO who knows his way around the boardroom. It’s going to need to reconnect with those truly passionate about social audio. Those who live, eat breath and share audio stories.

Idealistic I know.

We have seen too many unsustainable platforms fall by the wayside. Seesmic, 12 seconds, Phreadz. Some so desperate for growth that a pulling of the plug appeared to be the only option in a bid to cut losses.

I said it not long ago..

“As we invest so much of our cultural, conversational histories and stories, is it too much to ask that the companies hosting and archiving them guarantee that they will not only be there for future generations, but they will maintain the connections and metadata?…”

I can’t say my heart is no longer in audioboo because that’s exactly the problem. I have shared so much into this digital space that a chunk of my heart and soul hangs in there, strung out in the noughts and ones.

There is value being generated daily, by countless individuals living richer lives because Audioboo exists.

I hope the new Audioboo listens to the real investors.

I’m @Documentally on Twitter and App.net

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Using cameras for eyes is not compulsory. (photo by @SamuelHedberg)

UPDATE

To find out how you can participate in one of these days, check out Storymaking.net

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From pitching ideas in the office to posting holiday snaps to your favourite social places, we use stories in every area of our lives. To entertain, explain, educate and engage.  We are made of stories.

Thanks to the Open University I am able to offer a series of free workshops. These will be hosted by the OU in a number of cities across the UK. Think of this as a chance to sharpen your story-making skills for home, for fun or for professional use. We will be using today’s tools and platforms for documenting and sharing, connecting and curating.

Bring your mobile device or tablet and join us on a storymaking walk where you’ll get the chance to make and share a story of your own. We’ll show you how to:

·         Use a range of storymaking tools and apps
·         Take better photos with your mobile device
·         Record and share audio
·         Capture and share video
·         Geotag your location
·         Integrate multiple elements into your story
·         Use tags to make your story visible
·         Curate and Share your content online.

Bring a more recent phone model to the one pictured above. (Photo by @BenjaminEllis)

Events will be regularly held around the UK and there will be a limited number of 12 places with slots will be allocated on a first come, first served basis. Bring your own snacks or a packed lunch but hot drinks will be provided.

Please check out Storymaking.net and if you have any questions or would like to suggest future possible locations, feel free to comment below or ask me @Documentally

But after a good chunk of ever-so-reliable internet research I chose to visit The Old Ferry Boat Inn in Hollywell, near St Ives, Cambridgeshire.

Many will contest that Ye Olde Trip To Jerusalem is the oldest Inn in the Britain and on the many occasions I found myself drinking in ‘The Trip’ as a teenager I heard the same.

For me though, I was intrigued by the claim that the Old Ferry Boat’s foundations may date back to 460AD and that ‘records show’ liquor was served from 560AD.

Having been rebuilt a few times, as is often the case with thatched buildings that suffer a fire, It’s hard to prove much of what’s claimed. Even if the body of jilted lover Juliet Tewsley still lies under the stone in the floor that’s visible from the bar. In fact when I popped in today there was a man sat upon her alleged resting place, eating pie.

I was on the way to an internet free retreat in Norfolk where I hoped to get some work done when on the A14 I realised just how close I was to The Old Ferry Boat Inn.

So I took a diversion and parked up out front on the banks of the swollen River Ouse.

When I asked the bar manager (Kat) if I could interview her about the history of the Pub she gave me a firm no and told me she was not allowed to talk to the media. I explained that I was blogging because I loved to share stories and my intentions were purely honorable. No joy though. Apparently Greene King have a strict policy against such conversations taking place with mere staff and if I had phoned ahead they could have prepared a press release.

I can’t begin to tell you how much this pissed me off. Nothing to do with Kat. She was courteous and polite and explained that if she talked to me she was in breach of her contract. She gave me the phone number of the Greene King PR department written on the back of a card saying “Please review us on Trusted Places”. The irony was not lost on me.

I took my drink and my frustrations to the other side of the bar. I thought about how these places are all about stories and storytelling, and that no one has owned those stories for the last 1500 years so why think you can just take ownership because it suits your ‘Public Relations’ modus operandi.

I think it’s foolish to sacrifice public relationships in the name of public relations. All I wanted was a little history around the pub that I was currently enjoying. Interesting how the brewery trusts the Manager with the running of the place and all the financial responsibilities that that comes with that, but bans them from sharing it’s history with someone who may share it with others.

Anyway, I quickly realised that it wasn’t the Manager I needed to talk to but some locals who have drank there through numerous landlords, owners and managers.

I soon got chatting to two regulars called James and Paul. Two guys who knew the place, it’s people and it’s stories. We had a lovely unrestricted chat. As things should be. I told them I was a blogger and fascinated with these kind of places. These story hubs. These locations in space and time where for countless years, maybe 1500 in this case, people have made connections, told stories and shared news. Social networks.

It was a shame that I couldn’t record a chat with those that ran the pub. The current keepers of it’s story. But then perhaps its legends and tales that have become popularised over the years are the least interesting in the grand scheme of things. So much has happened in the Old Ferry Boat’s alleged 1500 years. How is it possible to even touch upon it’s rich history? Nearly all of it undocumented.

Maybe I should have just sat and soaked up the atmosphere. An atmosphere that was initially cold and unwelcoming due to the controlling hand of a hidden corporation threatening to slap any worker who dared to have an opinion, a care.

Storytelling in general is a communal act. Taverns were the new open fires.  Thankfully in this tavern I was saved by the Inn’s loyal patrons, James and Paul. They made the space what it was. The most recent in a long line of amateur historians. Keepers of the stories and ambassadors for this small space that has potentially brought strangers together for a one thousand five hundred years.

They left me reminded of how we are all made of stories. Of what Alan Rickman said..

“And it’s a human need to be told stories. The more we’re governed by idiots and have no control over our destinies, the more we need to tell stories to each other about who we are, why we are, where we come from, and what might be possible.”

I recorded some audio after I left..

This was part of my 40at40 list.

I was given an album last week. A concept album inspired by stories that were attached to objects that went to make a boat. A boat called ‘The Collective Spirit’.

The Lone Twin boat project is a truly inspirational endeavor made up of thousands of pieces of wood all donated with a story. Constructed from parts of 140 other boats, hockey sticks, A prosthetic foot in a clog, religious icons, Hendrix’s Guitar and many other amazing and unexpected items, I am told the boat truly is a thing of beauty that not only works, it’s on tour.

The BBC World Service recorded a great outline in their show The Strand and there is more info on the site belonging to the IF Milton Keynes International Festival with details of where you will be able to see this amazing 30 foot boat in Milton Keynes during the festival itself.

The stories in the wooden offerings that went to make the boat, inspired an equally eclectic group of musicians who were initially commissioned by ‘The Stables‘ to bring the stories alive. This album forged by musicians, poets and songwriters hangs together beautifully and combines their own stories and musings with the tales that went to make the boat.

After missing the IF:MKFest first time round in 2010 I am really looking forward to getting to experience it this year. Especially as I will be professionally involved in a number of guises. Initially I will be leading a Mobile Media Making workshop sharing skills and tips that will help participants of the festival better share their own stories. These will no doubt be tagged with #IFMKFest.

Secondly I will be participating in The cabaret of Ideas housed in the legendary Speigeltent. And throughout the festival I plan to capture audio interviews, photos and video.

If you would like more of an insight to how the festival was curated as well as more background on the album shown above and the Lone Twin Boat Project, I highly recommend spending some time listening to this conversation with two of the festival organisers.

Festival Director Monica Ferguson and Creative Producer Bill Gee:

There is more information on the Festival here: http://www.ifmiltonkeynes.org See you there!

When he died he took a thousand stories with him. And just as many songs. He was a guarded man. The few stories we shared only offered a glimpse of the life he’d lived.

Born in a field in the Ukraine. Before the First World War. Before the Russian Revolution. His mother cut the umbilical with her teeth. A break from picking potatoes. His childhood years saw rural adventures punctuated with death and hunger.

His brother, shot dead for stealing fruit. His father, an officer of the Tzar, died in a prison for being anti-Communist. He left the Ukraine and travelled Russia during the famine. Searching for food and work. Some of the stories I overheard as a child were the background for my first nightmares.

What I most remember, and in some ways is his legacy in place of the missing stories, were his skills. A proud man, an emotional man, his first passions were poetry & music, but denied an education because of his fathers politics, he chose to repair things, to make things, create things.

The first time I fixed something was with him. It was the sole of a shoe. He could make shoes and told me that a handful of simple skills had saved his life more than once. His early life had involved walking countless miles. Away from prisoner of war camps, away from famine. From meal to meal, job to job. I only now understand what he meant when he said  ”If you can fix soles you can save lives.”

He taught me to tie my laces, but with a special knot. He taught me change a plug, to solder, to fix a radio, a TV. He taught me nothing was broken that couldn’t be fixed. And I believed this. Even as I watched him lose the ability to walk, as a worsening limp forced him into a wheelchair. As failing eyes made him blind.

Most of the stories I now remember came from afternoons sat with my housebound Grandfather. A man too proud to seek medical attention until forced. A man who occasionally told me how proud he was of me. Of where I had been, of what I had seen, but mostly that I had listened to him. Learned from him. And that those skills would live on after him.

He shared more stories and tales in his last year than all of the years before. I would sit and listen to him, or we would both listen to his treasured short wave radio. Like our lives depended on it. He could translate the crackled tales from five different languages. He told me words were the only tools left to him.

He gave me his hat telling me there was no weather indoors. He gave me his watch as he could no longer see it. He gave me his shoes with the metal heel taps.

It’s his words though that I treasure the most. That I’m writing here in case I forget to pass them on.

It made him sad to fade away. To avoid death for 91 years and yet have his physical abilities stripped slowly away in the last 20.

He told me “You must make and create while you can. For as long as you can… When I couldn’t find food, I made music. When I couldn’t buy a ticket, I made shoes. There is always hope. It’s the simplest of tools.”

When helping my Grandmother tidy her house the other day, I came a cross a carrier bag under the stairs. It was like I’d found treasure. Inside were a handful of tools and a cast iron shoe repair anvil, a cobble.

These were my Grandfathers tools. His words sit in my memory and now these tools sit in my hands.

I find a beautiful momentum in the journey both these tools and my Grandfathers words have made. It’s comforting to think that there may be a certain immortality to our ideas and creations.

If we share.

 This story also sits on my Cowbird account.

She is now answering questions and asking me about the people behind the avatars. She doesn’t know what an avatar is, and I know the technology baffles her. It just makes me happy that as She is engaged in this new adventure, she forgets she is an 85 year old lady living alone, waiting to die.

When she lost her daughter, my Mother, last year I noticed a rapid decline in her will to do anything. She blamed herself, God, anything for the hand she felt she was dealt, forgetting all that was good about her life, her family. She started to give up.

Occasionally this now changes. When her failing mind reminds her, she will still ask me if ‘those people on the computer’ have asked her any questions. I get my laptop out and we sit there going through her replies. She is now even keeping her answers short and concise watching me as I type them in.. Aware that 140 characters is not long enough for a life story. Especially a life as crazy as hers has been. And she forgets all she is sad about. It’s as if I have suddenly invited a hundred people into her home and she is momentarily worried she does not have enough biscuits to go round.

Twitter is becoming a micro diary of facts and figures, memories and moments in a woman’s life that I have known all of mine. Yet much of what she is talking about I have never heard. My Granddad was the story teller. My Nonna his obedient wife, helper and eventually nurse.

Now it’s her stories.. and they tell me of a strong independent lady who has experienced far more than I could ever have imagined.

She may not update regularly, but when she does, her straining short term memory takes a break as we smile our way through tales of times gone by, adventures and a childhood still fresh in her mind.

These are my favorite times with my Grandmother. Thank You to all those who have engaged with her. you make an Old lady, and her grandson, very happy.

My Gran is @Granumentally

I am @Documentally

UPDATE: Here is a segment with me and my Gran on the CBC programme ‘Spark’