You know you're a Facebook Flunkie when your friend's fourth-grader sends you a friend request. I don't know what possessed me adopt a posse of cyberfriends when I barely make time to be good to my own family or the friends I count on when I need to boo-hoo.
You’re a confirmed Facebook Flunkie when you only check your account every few weeks. That's not enough if you're a “happening” person. Just because things happen to you, you aren’t a “happening” person. My weekly “excitement,” distilled into 850 words, is often decades old.
I refuse to log on to post updates like: “Just finished a load of laundry!” Who cares, except for the people waiting on that clean underwear? Even then, the merits of clean underwear are dubious, because people rarely get excited enough to transport it into their rooms. The only time they begin caring is when company is here. When visiting eyes rest upon the various mounds of undergarments on the coffee table, then they care. “Coffee, tea, or 34C?” Those eyes might be sizing up family members and guessing whose mound belongs to whom. It's like a perverted version of Pin-the-Tail-on-the-Donkey.
Next possible update: “Out of toilet paper.” This generates sympathetic responses: “Oh, Vineeta, so sorry you guys are roughing it.” Or, thoughtful gestures like, “Someone just sent you a roll of toilet paper!” You click to accept the roll of cyberpaper for all your cyber...well, you get the picture. Now you've enrolled in something else.
Why do I have a Facebook account? My husband is annoyed by my “breach of security.” (Has he read this column?) It's a nice way to keep up with people you'd normally only send a Christmas letter. I know those annual letters are supposed to be tacky, but that’s all I do during the holidays, since I'm no good with decorating, baking, or any other festive merry-making.
Security breach? What security breach? To think I'm posting anything of vital importance that hasn't been in this column is a laugh…or a gas. Speaking of which, some people do post everything: “Barney just passed gas and burped. At the same time!” That might be someone's status.
You're hoping Barney is the infant, and not the husband. Because:
A.) That could be embarrassing for the husband.
B.) If it is the husband, this is not news-flash material.
Whoever poor Barney is, I doubt he has a Facebook account. Otherwise, Barney will get an urgent email, “You were mentioned in someone's status update. Don't rush to check, it wasn't very flattering.”
Speaking of flattering, notice how the younger generation is always armed with digital cameras? They post fabulous photos – of themselves. After all, they’re young and gorgeous; it’s not that hard. You will be tagged and lurking in the background, nose recoiled for a solid sneeze, or eyes half-closed in a drunken, groggy appearance that you hope is not your norm.
A security breach would require posting something of any significance. My posts are: “First time on this thing in three weeks!” Or, “Back on Facebook after a one-month hiatus.” You have to be able to throw a word like “hiatus” in somewhere, especially when you aren't really saying anything.
The only time I posted “real” information was after Mother's Day, when my husband bought me this little Dell Mini. “Ahh. Battery that lasts more than 12 minutes. I love this Dell Mini. Thanks, Eldred, even though you will never read this.” Shortly thereafter, he read it. Wanting to show how I could connect to our email while at Panera, he asked me to get onto Facebook. We got coffee, but I also got that look that that says, “Security breach.” The best part of our visit there is when we see Tom and Maureen, who are practically a fixture there with their morning papers. Not only are they the cutest couple, they also happen to read this column, which indicates that they are obviously people of keen intelligence and impeccable taste.
There are Facebook users and Facebook over-users. Over-users are people who spend a small portion of their day doing something, and the rest of the time documenting it for the virtual world. They send cyber flowers and cyber cards. They have little pranks where they can “kidnap” you.
I don't even qualify on the radar as an under-user yet. There is an Indian version called Yaari, which I have so far managed to avoid without hurting anyone’s feelings. (I hope.) There’s also a “Geni” networking program, whose slogan is “Everyone's Related.” One of my family members initiated this before my parent’s 50th anniversary, and the invitation to join this network said, “It's private, so only your family can see it.” The counter back in June said we had 199 family members...so far.
Then there is LinkedIn, which is like the professional’s flavor of Facebook. Obviously, I don't have one. I'm not professional enough for that. If you want to look me up and send me a message on Facebook, that would be a nice gesture. Don't be offended if it takes me a month to respond. It’s nothing personal, I'm just a Facebook Flunkie.
:D rofl
ReplyDeletekaren