July 25, 2013--Un-Friending

A couple of years ago when the film Social Network was the rage, to keep up with what everyone else was up to, we drove to Rockland to catch a 2:00 PM show.

I came away confused. If Facebook was all about meeting girls, why had, by then, more than three-quarters of a billion people from all around the world signed up to be members? There must be, I thought, additional reasons.

Since I knew I would never figure out how to get with it, I was inclined to want to write about Facebook and social networking from a curmudgeonry perspective.

Rona said, "How can you write authoritatively about something you don't know or understand?"

"Simple," I said, "I do that all the time. If I don't know something, I make it up. If I know a little about something, I exaggerate. All, of course, to make a better story."

"That sounds irresponsible," Rona chided me, "If you want to write about Facebook, you should take the plunge and sign up. So you can report about it from a real, as opposed an imagined point of view."

"That sounds responsible," I said. And so I began the process of becoming a member.

As you undoubtedly know, one begins by making a list of all the people who you want to become your Facebook friends. And once you enter those names, while waiting to see which of the half dozen people I listed would agree to become a friend of this kind, up popped a much longer list of names of people I know, or about whom I have vague recollections, to see if I would agree to be their friends.

I raced down that list quickly, declining the proffered "friendship" in every instance.

Observing me at this, Rona said, "This is not the way Facebook is supposed to work. If you want to give it a fair test you have to agree to be friends with at least some people. That's what this is all about."

She had me there, and so I revisited the list that had popped up and agree to become friends with about 20 people. "That should be enough," I said to Rona, who by then was quite fed up with me, "to see how this kind of networking works."

After a week or so of checking my Facebook page at least once a day, I felt I had enough experience to do my thing. If you are interested in seeing what I had to say at the time, check my November 1, 2010 blog posting.

About half my "friends" proved to be reasonably amusing, reporting wittily and self-depricatingly about their various comings, goings, and occasional peccadilloes. I had expected that Facebook would bring out the worst of their narcissistic tendencies. Not mine, of course, but theirs. I feared I would be hearing about every jot and tittle of their lives and very little about what they were thinking, reading, experiencing, and struggling with. And thus I was pleasantly surprised.

S_____ keeps his friends up to date about what is happening in New York City. Here is a typical Facebook posting form him about the latest in men's hair styles--

Trending in NYC just now: top of the head pony tales. Let me be very clear about this--unless you are a famous samurai warrior or a remnant of the Manchu Empire from the 13th century, this has got to stop. Stop it now before it goes too far. Please.

Of all my real and virtual friends, S_____ is the only one I know who's up on the Manchu Empire. He also knows more about Hadrian's Wall than half the historians at Oxbridge.

If I need to know about fired chicken, I can always count on R_____ :

Trying to order fried chicken delivered to Soho, you'd think I was after the rarest caviar. BonChon won't come up from John Street or down from 35th Street. Dirty Bird (rudest of all) will come to Houston or up to Canal. I mean, honestly, I'm going up to Charles Fired Chicken in Harlem, which beats them all hands down anyway and costs a lot less.

R____'s right.--living downtown isn't easy.

And if I need to know about the geology of the coast of Maine, there is A____. And for what's best at the movies, L_____. For snarky political commentary, more fun than Politico's, there are the daily jabs from D____ , who lives up in Alaska.  Just the other morning, on his Facebook page, he said--

I was wandering around last week looking for Sarah Palin, hoping I'd run into her so I could get advice about some good summer reading or where to find a moose to shoot or skin. I couldn't locate her, but wandered into the place where she used to get her hair done. Lots of pictures of her on the walls. Everything teased real high. The woman who runs the place told me that as soon as Sarah made her millions she ran off to live some place down in Arizona. Where, she assumed, the Palins joined the militia and are patrolling the border looking for Mexicans. 

But about  year ago, less and less of what was being posted was interesting or entertaining. Just as I had expected when I joined, narcissism began to be unleashed.

Now I'm hearing about the death of pets (with accompanying cute photos); children's' bridal showers and weddings (with dozens of photos attached, including many of the haul of gifts); endless reports about trips here and there with pictures again but almost nothing about what may have been learned or the personal changes the travel and trekking may have engendered; and endless reports about the weather (stifling), undistinguished recipes from last night's dinner; pictures of grandchildren "graduating" in caps and gowns from pre-school; and much to do about Mad Men, which this year foe me became almost unendurable.

So, to retain positive feelings about my "friends" who are in fact friends, I am beginning to selectively un-friend them.

All along, Rona had been expecting this. "You're fundamentally too unsocial for a social network. You're happiest staying home alone with a book."

"I wonder what Sarah's reading these days. Wouldn't it . . . ?"

Before I could finish, Rona was back outside working in the garden.