Thursday, March 12, 2009
My Grey BFF Explains Facebook
OK, I’m on Facebook, I have 8 friends of whom 80% are blood related to me. My granddaughter has, oh, over 300.
I joined at the urging of younger family, younger associates.
None of my contemporaries are on there. Well, correction, one is. I don’t particularly like her. Well, truth is I also don’t particularly recognise her. She is my age but has had a lot of scalpel adjustments so that every time I look at her I wonder who she is and then remember. Her hair extensions extend, oh lots, to add to my confusion. And her bikini as she sits on her Harley Davidson does not flatter her. Well, she must think it does, right? And that’s all that matters. I dropped her as a F2F friend for I found it challenging to be around her as she is always accompanied by a different cast member from a posse of young men from the third world with limited English that she likes to import for the summer season and coo at. They are young enough to be her grandsons. When she asked me to be her Facebook friend, I agreed. I’m stupid that way.
(You can see now why I like to remain anonymous on this blog, right?)
I heard a show on CBC radio the other day about this guy who tried to have a party for his Facebook friends, rented out a bar and everything. 250 were invited. And only one showed up, a friend of a friend that he didn’t know at all but had added her to his ‘friends’ because his buddy worked with her. His conclusion was that people are engaging in real time less and less with each other. Hence the spawn of Facebook: Twitter.
I can go on line and see my granddaughter goofing around with her friends and posting all sorts of hip stuff on her ‘wall’. (BTW, is ‘hip’ a word anymore?). When I do this I feel like I’m stalking her.
The thing is, there is no one of my own age, or even remotely near it to stalk. Apart from the aforementioned Diana. Who has 75 friends. Mostly offshore. And who must feel sorry for me, with my 8.
Facebook does my head in. Seriously.