I find Facebook truly revealing in ways it was not intended. Constant exposure to certain "FRIENDS" is raising questions about the value of these friends. Of course social networking of that kind is superficial. Nobody is going to enter into deep dialogue because it's much too exposed. But what passes for conversation is really vanity on display, particularly the update section. As I update I'm tempted to write complete lies about my day or insane revelations about my feelings. No-one would notice and nobody would care.
Three "friends" are particularly annoying. One, uses her posts as a marketing tool for herself and her art. It's ego tripping and it just doesn't interest me. Having known her for many years, it occurs to me that Facebook is an ideal medium for her self absorption. She has always grabbed for attention often at inappropriate times in unacceptable circumstances. Whatever the conversation, she could always bring it round to her. I inherited another friend who was in a relationship with someone I do care about. They have gone separate ways, but I don't defriend him because I don't want to hurt his feelings. He has nothing to say but says it often. All he seems to do is drink and party with equally dull people. Another, is a lovely person I do want to hear from who has become a mother. Her posts are all about the child and only the child. I want to say "dear God girl we've had babies and we know" but I don't. Other young parents on my 'friends" list still seem to take an interest in a world beyond the nursery.
To some, I too have become tedious with constant updates about the progress of my show. In truth, I am only really sending the updates to Maya, my daughter, and a few select friends. Facebook is a handy and quick way of saying "hey, I'm busy but ok".
Facebook also is a remarkably selfish tool that brings out the worst in some people. I'm reminded of parties in my past, where I would wander from group to group in the hope of finding an interesting conversation. Eventually, I'd drink enough not to care or, having wandered into the kitchen, I'd find a group of nerds happily talking about atheism in Turkey or archeology in Kurdistan. I was so grateful to the nerds because they knew there was more to life than hockey and shopping. They had passion for their interests. Occasionally on Facebook, I bump into someone (a friend of a friend) who is sharing an interest or a passion. The ensuing discussion pulls me in and I find myself commenting to the extent that Maya has asked how I ended up commenting to someone, when I'm not even on that friend's list.
So why do I use Facebook? Sad to say, I use it to stay in touch with her world and to ward off that demon of the elderly, irrelevance. I'm sure that without Facebook, I would simply drift off into loneliness. I use this social network to pretend that I have a real social network. I don't of course, my phone rarely rings and the people that I have known are dying. I have close friends in Toronto, but if I want to see them, I have to drive there. They can't come here, but their adult children are so wrapped up in their own lives, that a trip to Peterborough might as well be a trip to Atlantis. It's a one way highway to Toronto that rarely brings people out to Peterborough not even for my show and 70th Birthday. I was there when they were born and shared a lifetime of special events, but that was yesterday. I don't like to drive in winter anymore.
Some of Maya's friends have adopted me and will be making the trip to Peterborough to see my show. This touches me deeply because they came into my life much later and became my friends through the internet. They stayed in touch with me while Maya was in the Yukon. I needed that connection and I'm deeply grateful for their affection.
I also have to commend Facebook for allowing me to connect with old friends from my youth. That's how Clifford found me. My very first steady boyfriend and I are friends again after fifty years of separation. So I take the good and the bad of Facebook. I just have to learn to ignore the empty prattle as I would at a cocktail party of yore.
Time to end for now. Anon.
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About Me
- kingmisha
- I'm bigger than a pile of breadboxes, but smaller than a Sherman tank. I'm overeducated, underpaid but very content with my life. I have loved infrequently but intensely. I dated a poet, divorced a Dean, had an affair with a jazz pianist, was engaged to a diplomat, and widowed by my child's father. The men in my life were all very special. Not all grand passions but much loved in their time: Leonard Cohen, Alfred Pinsky, Billy Horn, Wendell Goodin, and Elliot Hirschman. Thanks for the memories... I'm a lapsed artist which doesn't really trouble me because I'm a very successful parent. I lacked the requisite conceit to persevere as an artist. I just couldn't make myself believe that my art came before my child. The world really doesn't need another sculptor (even a good one), but it does need another good human being. It can use all the good human beings we can turn out. I present Mambolica as my evidence so judge for yourselves.