All the more for being full of anticipation at the beginning, by the end I felt deflated and annoyed.

Particularly disappointing was Scoble’s self-confessed, web-enabled obsessive-compulsiveness and apparent delight at finding new ways to feed it. Rather than seek help for what most would consider a disorder it appears he finds all the solace he needs in a similarly unhealthy physical attachment to his computer. I could be wrong but it just struck me that way, very odd.

Among the hints of separation anxiety from his tens of thousands of online followers and signs of creeping inboxaphobia, this one thing stood out in particular: Scoble’s laptop is adorned in much the same way as my 11 year-old daughter has hers plastered with stickers.

More than personalization I think, stickering up your big-boy’s laptop strikes me as another oddball thing for Scoble to do. It’s obvious from some the shabby ones that the wear and tear on the machine has become part of the symbolism, emblematic of time passing and dues paid.

Not wanting to jump to the conclusions of an amateur psych, or to be accused of suffering from my own web-induced flights of fancy, I looked hard for the Pennzoil sticker hoping I could use  the NASCAR defense to explain the sticker thing. But alas, no. No Pennzoil stickers. Not even one from GoDaddy.com.

I guess an ologist of some sort could explain the correlation between the behavior of prepubescent girls, a devotee’s irrational worship of inanimate objects, the eccentricities of industry icons or the foibles of genius. I can’t, can you?

Possibly there is no correlation at all. Perhaps Scoble has simply been exposed to too much social computing over the years. One day, maybe we’ll recognize that a missing DLL where the DNA used to be is an occupational hazard to be expected when one is exposed to years of tinkering around with life-affirming micro-blogging.

Last, and most bothersome of all, was the complete absence of good manners on Scoble’s part. I ask you — to be interviewing the likes of Mark Bernstein, obviously not paying attention and twittering away, how else could that be construed as anything but very, very rude. Watching as Scoble’s eye was drawn to his webcam rather make contact with his subject, I was reminded of Mother who used to say, “New money is so vulgar!”

Ironic then, Shel Israel struggling to have a conversation and Robert Scoble, tethered by a wireless device, hardly able to cope with the contrivance of a TV-show format, itself a product of Fast Company’s magazine-mired thinking.

You might see it altogether differently, who knows? The show has a good premise and perhaps it will improve as Scoble becomes more comfortable with a medium that normally lacks authenticity but, as seen in this episode, can be just as revealing without the required rehearsal.

Well, you can bookmark the site for future programs and decide for yourself. I may be jaded by a touch of anticapointment.