Me Me Me

I seem to have touched a nerve with my meditation on cellphones (which, as I mentioned, I seldom use or even turn on) and BlackBerries (don’t get me started…again). But what of Facebook? My adorable children have banned me from Facebook, which is perfectly fine because in my opinion, nobody over the age of… okay, I’ll be nice… 35 has any business on Facebook. And no one who is married with children. Writing on someone’s “wall”? Drawing an etch-a-sketch-style flower or kitten? “Poking” someone? These are not suitable activities for a grownup. Nor is spying on your college-age child’s online photo albums like a member of the secret police.

Now, I’m as nosy as the next person, and when granted access to Facebook by one of my children, I enjoy sitting with them and looking at drunken pictures of their high school friends. (My kids, of course, are as sober as a judge in all of their Facebook photos. HA HA.) It’s amazing, and a little alarming, what’s available on Facebook for anyone who cares to look, as Rudy Guiliani discovered when his daughter joined the “Friends of Obama” group. Okay, that was funny! And it’s nice to hear that 50 people sent my child a happy birthday message without having to buy and mail a card.

What of the “networking” possibilities inherent in Facebook and LinkedIn and MySpace and so on? Just the thought of that is tiresome. When is a “friend” actually a friend? Luckily, I am past the age of having to job-hunt or social-climb on the internet. And it’s a tad hypocritical of me to turn my nose up at Facebook and then start a blog! But so far, at least, my kids have been okay with this form of expression — and I haven’t posted any pictures here that could embarrass them.