Adults invade Facebook’s land of cool
Lori Borgman | Monday, March 02, 2009
I had seven e-mails from an older gentleman who
is the president of a highly respected non-profit asking me to become
his friend on Facebook. It was so unnerving I joined Facebook just
to make the e-mails stop.
Facebook is no longer hip since CEOs, everybody’s
mother and geezers started signing on. Adults have invaded the land
of cool.
The poor kids. They are now waiting for the next
technological development that will allow them to construct yet
another bubble where they can escape from their parents. It may
involve implanting computer chips in their brains so they can mentally
telegraph messages like “U home?” and “Call me.”
When I told our kids I was on Facebook, they responded
with unanimous horror, telling me to be careful and not post personal
information. You’d think I was 15, hormonal and in need of adult
supervision.
I’m trying to get the hang of Facebook, but it’s
not going well. Social networking on Facebook involves posting a
lot of messages about how you are feeling, what you are doing and
what you are thinking. I often open my page and see posts like the
following: “Mary is thinking about chicken parmesan.” “Julie is
making spaghetti and meatballs for dinner.” “Becca is considering
bacon this morning.”
I’ve gained five pounds just reading the wall
posts.
Many of the other posts concern fatigue: “Jeff
is feeling wiped.” “Sue is going to take a nap.” “Dian had an exhausting
weekend and is turning in early.”
I will never be good at Facebook because I am
a rash person who eats and sleeps without giving any consideration
to telling a hundred of my closest friends (actually only 92) what
I am doing. I would never let a computer stand between me and the
refrigerator or me and a bed when I am dog tired.
The best thing to happen to me on Facebook is
that I am now a member of the Plymouth High School Class of ’79
Alumni network. This is especially nice since I have never set a
foot inside Plymouth High School.
A Facebook friend of a friend inadvertently pulled
me into an alumni network and, since I didn’t have many friends
and these people didn’t appear to be stalkers, I just kept adding
them to my friend list. I was feeling pretty good about it, and
boosting the paltry number of friends I had on Facebook, when my
new friends started asking questions like: “What was your maiden
name in high school?” “Some of us are having trouble placing you.”
“I’ve gotten forgetful. Can you remind us who you are?”
I thought about claiming I had been head cheerleader
or student council president, but it is a small school in a small
town and there is always the danger someone would ask if I can still
do a back flip or hold a grudge about some unpleasant event at the
prom.
I finally let them know they couldn’t remember
me from high school because I didn’t attend their high school. They
were very nice about the whole affair. As a matter of fact, they
seem so nice that the husband and I are considering attending the
reunion.
Oh, and for the record: “Lori is thinking about
lunch.”
