Facebook: It’s not really my thing. Before you bear fangs, let me explain. I love that Facebook is helping long lost best friends keep in touch over many miles and years. And all those cat pics are certainly cute. I even have a certain uncomfortable affinity for the socially acceptable and politically correct voyeurism born of the internet age. But overall, I am not a strong enough person to partake responsibly.
I log on just to see really quick what that evil email was about. “Ferris Fartsenbloom is now friends with your brother (are you going to stand for that?).” Problem is, seeing really quick for me is a guaranteed loss of at least an hour of my precious life. I don’t care how cute those dang cats are, I’m never getting my hour back again.
I could scroll down my cascading ‘wall’ for an eternity (I think that’s the point) and browse through all the family photos seven times, and still not have enough. Every post is a new rabbit hole, and I am nothing more than an excited puppy in cyberland, stuffing my wet nose into every fissure in the ground. Not because I want to (I can waste time unnaturally well even while looking at things I care not a lick about), but because my brain shuts down when faced with the interminable stream of pixels and commentary. It forgets to tell me to eat, or to check the weather that I sat down to check 35 minutes ago. It filters out children, husbands, dirty sinks, and words I’m supposed to be writing. In short, I am quite positive that I am just the sort that could be a junkie if given a long enough leash.
This is written mostly as an apology to my 123 Facebook friends that occasionally shoot me an all-important message via the medium I never check. I’m not ignoring you. I’m not Facebook-shunning you (is that a thing?). I’m just not there. I do have several valid email addresses though, and a phone (or 5), and even a few doors that lead directly into my home. I’m happy to chat with you any time via any of those more primitive means of communication. They’re safer. For me.
That said, I might be around the ol’ online water cooler a little bit more often (tethered securely to a 10-minute-long leash). I’ve been blogging a little these days, despite my reluctance towards all things social or media, nevermind my particular phobia of their lovechild, the dreaded social media. It’s been an interesting experiment, and I am proud to report that I have been enjoying myself. It’s a more controlled environment; conscious input and all that.
But alas, I’ve been encouraged by some to cross-post on Facebook, merging my several little worlds into one. I don’t know if that’s a good idea or not, given my similar reluctance to let anyone I know read anything I write, but we’ll giv‘er a shot. I’ll throw it all up there, and maybe I’ll even decide to check in more often, to see if I stir up any juicy debates, lose any ‘friends,’ or start a war between small countries like Colfax and Elk Mound. Who knows what kind of messes I can make.
If you’re one of those pokers and prodders, here you go: all my blogging mojo posted directly to your Facebook wall. If you’re not, I’m sorry. Click at your own risk.
Best to all: Flunkies, junkies, and those responsible cyber-citizens in between,