OK, I'll admit it. I don't want to be bothered. I don't want to know when you are about to enter the train, and I don't care that you found the most wonderful scarf at the Goodwill Store.
So please, I beg of you, don't ask me to get Twitter'd.
Anyone that has ever seen my book or record collection (or even gawked at my favorite links on my browser tools bar) will realize one thing - I prefer substance over surface. Hence, there is nothing you can really tell me in 140 characters that is going to interest me in the least.
But for whatever reason, Twitter is getting the buzz. It has already passed my "Aunt Valerie" test: nothing is truly ubiquitous until Aunt Valerie starts using it. As an example, I knew Facebook was going to be worth a zillion bucks when she started Friending every relative I've got, and now shares about 20 pictures (of grandchildren, of course) a day. Now, I get to find out when Aunt Valerie is about to hit the mall, or when she is about to start watching General Hospital.
I get asked about Twitter at least twice a day, always answering: "It's big, people are into it, and I will never do it." Perhaps I'm just a Cranky Geek, but the last thing I need at any given moment is a Virtual Stool Sample of your life. You know what I'd rather have? A nice email, maybe every month or two, letting me know about the important stuff that is going on.
If nothing else, that will remind me that you are an interesting and deep person, and that I'm glad to know you - something no Tweet will ever do.