TikTok is the new Ed Sullivan Show

If I hadn't seen a fleeting reference to it on my Twitter feed, I would have been completely unaware that there's a balloon popping thang. But there is. If you want to see that thang in action, all you need to do is Google "balloon popping." And if the first thing that pops up is a link to the YouTube vid of "Balloon Popping from Level 1 to Level 100," it is well worth your time - if you have 4.50 minutes to spare which, if you're reading this, you likely do - clicking through to watch it. 

Who knew that balloon popping was a thang? That there are millions of people who enjoy watching all sorts of balloon popping methods that go way, way, way beyond pricking the balloon with a needle, squeezing it between your hands (risking an ouchie), or just plain stomping down on it. There's even a subgenre: frozen balloon popping.  

Some of the tricks are really quite amazing. (C.f., "Balloon Popping from Level 1 to Level 100.") And - get this - you can actually make a living doing it.

The Internet may not have changed everything-everything, but it did change plenty. And one of the changes it wrought was the creation of all sorts of Internet-related work to replace the non-digital, buggy-whippish jobs that are being eliminated.

If you're among the digerati you can be an app developer, digital marketer, search engine optimizer...

You can be an influencer, which has got to be the most god-awful non-job job ever invented.

Or you can TikTok your balloon popping tricks and monetize your way into a pretty good living.

Back in the day, Canada's own David Beck was working as a waiter/bartender. With a sideline in making TikToks for his 1,000 followers.

Then he posted a "life-changing" video:

In the alley beside his Brentwood Bay apartment building, David Beck kneels in front of a gold water balloon, gripping an ax in both hands. In slow motion footage, he swings the ax down towards the balloon, scrunching his face with the effort. When the ax finally hits it, the balloon pops, revealing another, fully-intact balloon underneath it. (Source: Capital Daily)

That video struck gold. On Day One, it was viewed more than a million times.

This was in March 2020, the Beginning Times of the pandemic, and Beck was about to lose his "real" work. Which gave him more time to hone his balloon popping craft. By posting balloon content, he grew his account to 11.2M followers. And found that he was able to monetize his lark into a full-time job. One of his videos has had over 100 million views. 

Beck has an international following, and it's somewhat comforting to learn that Americans aren't the only ones spending time watching balloon popping on TikTok. "Only" 25% of his views are from the U.S. "with other top countries including the United Kingdom, Vietnam, Indonesia, and the Philippines, but he’s not sure where Canada ranks."

From many of the young folks, this would be the ideal job: creative, not much heavy lifting, completely flexible, you're your own boss. 

There are thousands of kids who probably dream of doing Beck’s job. A 2019 survey found that 86 per cent of young Americans want to be influencers, and a 2018 British survey found that “social media star” was among the most popular dream jobs for children. However, Beck explains that while he loves what he does, it’s not always as easy (or as lucrative) as people expect.

His income has been estimated to be over $2.5M, but Beck says that this ain't so.   

“That’s complete bullshit… I’m not the Logan Paul of Canada,” he laughs. “There’s a discrepancy between what people think you make in what you actually make. People think ‘oh, seven million followers [at the time of this article; now over eleven million], you must be making hundreds of thousands of dollars’ or something. It's not like that. It's more humble than that.”

If you're wondering where the income comes from, and I surely was:

Beck explains that a TikToker’s earnings depend on what kind of content they’re making—not just how many views they get. The money he earns comes from a few different sources, including musicians who pay to have their songs featured in videos, brands who pay for their product to be shown on screen, and TikTok itself, which will pay for Beck to participate in campaigns or trends.

He makes a reasonably good living, and likes what he does. So, no Kardashian, but still living his best life. So, props to him.

Growing up, Sunday evening in our house meant watching The Ed Sullivan Show. (It also meant College Bowl and Rocky and Bullwinkle. An all round excellent TV viewing night!)

Ed Sullivan presented a smorgasbord of talent: popular singers (Elvis! Steve and Eydie Gormé! The Beatles!); opera (Beverly Sills and Robert Merrill) and Broadway stars (Ethel Merman, Robert Goulet). Harmonic players. The Bolshoi Ballet. Tap dancers. Borscht Belt comedians. Ventriloquists, puppeteers, puppeteering ventriloquists. And, often, a circus act of some sort.

Inevitably, when Ed introduced an act with some sort of circus-y talent, my father would ask the question: how did this person find out they had a talent for juggling bowling balls, eating fire, spinning plates. The answer for most of these acts was that they were probably either born into it (i.e., were part of a circus family) or figured out that was a way to make a living in the circus (after running away to join it). 

We were not, to say the least, circus types. On the contrary, making fun of the circus was something that - led by my father - we all enjoyed as a family. (Other than my mother. She was too nice to ever make fun of anything.)

I can only imagine what my father would make of someone who was making their living posting balloon popping videos.

TikTok is, I guess, the new Ed Sullivan Show. And it's a really big one.