The regular readers of my pabulum (both of you) may have noticed that the proliferation of my posts has become considerably more sparse. Although I'd like to plead scarcity of time due to work, family commitments, and just plain old life, in general, in all honesty the real culprit has been Facebook. In fact, by researching my past blogs and my Facebook photo albums, I can inform you with all confidence that I have been wasting time there since November of 2008.
When I first started blogging, I feared I would quickly run out of things to write about. Regardless of that fear, I usually posted six to eight blogs per month for nearly two years. Starting in November of 2008, my posts tapered off to barely one per month.
"So, what? Did you quit writing?" you might ask. Heck no. I've been doing some awesome writing. Any of my Facebook pals can tell you I write some of the pithiest, most witty comments they've seen. And just because I coached them to say that doesn't necessarily make it untrue.
If it is true, as Matthew Arnold said, "journalism is literature in a hurry," then Facebook comments are literature that have ADD, have ingested large amounts of meth, and have the metabolism of a hummingbird. Other than my natural predisposition to want to crack wise ad nauseam with friends and acquaintances, the most daunting time drain to me when I was a Facebook newb were the endless quizzes, games, and the giving and receiving of gifts.
This level of stimulation for someone with my OCD tendencies was akin to what a flea might feel were he lucky enough to find his mandibles adhered to the haunches of Clifford, the big red dog. Many are the times Judy has caught me with the glazed expression she calls "the trout look," little rivulets of drool racing from my gaping mouth down my chin, transfixed by the plethora of time wasting options.
"Someone threw a pillow at you! Throw one back?" Why not?
"Your first grade teacher, Sister Angelita, just joined Facebook! Would you like to poke her?" Okay.
"Which 19th century ax murderer are you?! Take this quiz" Oops. Hold on a minute I'm also chatting with my buddy Steve. What? Yea. I got Lizzie Borden, too. {Steve is offline} Son-of-a.....
Holy cow! I have twenty three requests! Someone sent me a drink. What the heck is a "moonwalk"? I have fifteen Farkle chip gifts. What the hell is Farkle? What the...Why would I have an untraceable cell phone? Father O'Malley would like you to join his Mafia. No thanks. Trying to quit.
Herein lays my biggest challenge with Facebook. With my obsessive nature and my need for completeness, I must do the same things in the same way each time I do them. Let me walk you through it.
Check e-mail before logging in to Facebook. Notifications, messages, nay, all things Facebook show up in my e-mail. Sixty three items in my junk mail folder. Oh joy! Rapidly scan and delete messages trying to remember the context as I only see the other side of the thirty four conversations I had yesterday to the exclusion of my own comments.
Log in. Look to the bottom right for "Notifications". Click on the sign post to find links to comment strings and "Status" posts I previously commented on or just clicked a button to signify my liking of. Return to look at other comments and drop more witty observations and double entendres. Oh pooh! The entire page shifted slightly but perceptibly down signifying someone has made a new post. I must now scroll up to see the new post. This cycle repeats itself continually as each time a new post is made, should I miss the page shudder, a red flag pops up over my notification sign post.
While not sprinting to the top of the page for new posts, I sprint the other direction, as the voices in my head implore me to go down to where I left off the last time I was logged in. I cannot stand the thought that I might have missed out on some earth-shatteringly relevant You Tube link or some quirky news of the weird link like coyotes eating a folk singer (actual link from Backpacker.com, which leads me to believe that coyotes really don't care much for folk songs). This goes on and on. The more friends you have the more of this you see.
Finally caught up, I now go to the top right to check out my requests. Twenty four requests. Shoot. This is going to take forever. No; I don't want to send flowers to my friends. Oooh. This palm tree is from my friend's kid. I suppose I should send something back. Wait.....what's this!! Ignore?! I can ignore stuff!! My OCD screams that this is un-American, but I tell my OCD where to stick it. He naturally asks for detailed instructions and if possible, a flow chart. I "like" the ignore button. That now saves me 30 minutes a night.
Another tool I've allowed myself to utilize despite the protests of my various neurosii is the "hide" button. Anyone you know on Facebook can tell you that the quiz junkies they have befriended, or the militantly political acquaintances they know, or the kids of friends who post sixteen times a day that they are bored are slowly driving them insane. I became a very happy man the day my cursor shifted slightly to the right and a query saying "hide prepubescent nut job?" popped up (okay; it just said "hide?") Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!
I'm getting better, little by little. I still post an exceedingly high number of pictures, but I find it a very convenient way to keep track of my hikes. Facebook is also a nice quick way to get in touch with people. It is also a nice quick way to get out of touch. This is at once Facebook's greatest benefit and its worst characteristic. You can send someone drinks, flowers, and even Rubik's Cubes and never spend a dime, nay, never leave your house. It is the illusion of being social without really being social. With the economy over the last year, that may not necessarily be a bad thing, but then again the absence of real connections may not be a good thing either. Civility can take a beating when you don't have real flesh and blood sitting across from you. Even with the process of thinking of a comment, writing it, and the option of deleting it, I have managed to offend people I've known for years. The nuances of facial expression, voice inflection, and any other meaningful cues (also, if possible, ending with the "shun" sound) are totally lost in this medium. In the end, like all things, I'm finding Facebook is best when used in moderation.
Oh dang. Got to go. Someone just posted a link of monkeys river dancing!