So in the space of a bit over an hour, I´ve read about someone´s child whose rock band is debuting, seen pictures of another´s house being a built, another building a treehouse for someone else, I´ve read articles, blogs and musings from the AP, CNN, The Onion, Yahoo News, and The Atlantic. Read missives sent through Frontiers of Freedom, WND, watched Prager University “courses.” Looking at photos of people who I still see through the eyes of an 8th grade boy. Wandering through the visuals experienced and shared by friends who I took a Banka with to Pagsanjan Falls, spent hours doing wacky theatre-related activities with in one of two high schools, people who, when I see their name on a FB post, I don´t even notice their current profile picture; I see them as they were in my 3rd grade class. I´ve always said – and I´m sure it´s not original – that FB for me at least, is like always having a cocktail party to go to but where you don´t actually drink. You stroll by conversations belligerently antagonistic of the current state of affairs, winsome wonderings by the chronically lovelorn, statements of love screamed out in verses, memes, and Junior Scholastic poster musings. Someone is in Napoli. Another is headed for Turkey. Another is Down Under and another is Above and Beyond. And I can choose to join in the conversations, “like” a post, do a little research to check the authenticity of an article, admire a piece of art, agree with someone´s point, disagree, laugh at another´s one-liners, reshare art, music, articles, points of view. I pass by people with whom I spent two short years in a foreign country, people I went bowling with in fifth grade, kids – in most cases I see them as this and I tell my children stories about what we did (in Elementary school, don´t worry. :;) – who have grandkids and others whose children are just starting to eat solid food. I can say “hi” or not, safe in the knowledge that the snub would go unnoticed. I say Happy Birthday to those I´m informed of – embarassed to say that I don´t remember everyone´s b-days without a little FB help. I can look at photos of someone´s trip to Thailand or Capri, or not. But we´re really not all together at a cocktail party, real or virtual. (The closest to that is when there are reunions). And it´s then that I realize that, unlike a group of people gathered together in some great cosmic room, chatting away about their lives, whipping out our wallets to show pics of our beautiful new…baby, horse, niece, grandchild, mother, father, sibling, best bud, BFF, but rather each of us is just sitting in our rooms, howling into the wind, hoping someone might “hear” us. I know that´s obvious, but when I step back from the enjoyment of peaking at the lives of someone I rode the bus with in junior high school or with whom I navigated the treacherous grad school waters of Providence, RI, hiked Vail mountain with, walked the length of Manhattan from Columbia University to Soho at midnight to crash with, I remember that they´re not talking to me specifically nor I to them, necessarily. Occasionally, our voice gets picked up by someone we taught or taught with or were taught by, directed, acted with, roofed houses with, someone we washed dishes with in a Denver soup kitchen. And they respond. They “like” something we said, did, wrote, painted, composed, directed. They comment on our achievements, our childrens´achievements. They congratulate us. We congratulate them. People we promote. People who are promoting themselves. Writers, lawyers, actors, workers, wine makers, music makers, painters, commanders, engineers, potters, singers and glassblowers. And if only for a moment, it feels like we´ve made a connection. Our howl gets heard. Instead of staring blankly at the TV with which there is no interaction, we´ve discovered hidden talents, learned a new recipe, read a traveller´s blog, a teacher´s lament, a teacher´s highlight. Or we´ve had our egos stroked, stroked others´, become frustrated, been made to laugh, cry, groan, and shake our heads in disbelief. We´ve been amazed by feats of horsemanship, random acts of kindness, impressed by someone´s courage, distressed by another´s foolishness. Bored by another´s parallel structure, drawn in by someone else´s wit. So…. go ahead and hate on FB. I think it´s pretty cool. And that´s what´s on my mind.
Posted on: Sat, 14 Sep 2013 23:21:40 +0000
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