My love affair with Facebook may be waning a bit. Sure, it's nice to connect with people you haven't seen or heard from in ages, and the flair always gives me a chuckle. But really, it's just a giant time sucker. The games, the "gifts", and the energy spent keeping in touch with people that you, ummmm, aren't really that in to - over it. 'Course, that's not to say that I don't get sucked into the vortex from time to time, but I'm working on it. Baby steps. Hey, is there a 12 step program? I bet there is.
Plus, I've been neglecting my blog - which is a shame since it's just for me.
Anyway, I was thinking about all this while having lunch and reading Reno News And Review and look at the article I found in there (love it!):
CrackBerry rehab Try as we might, we’re now too invested in Facebook and the like to just shut down our computers or, worse, delete our accounts. Were it not for social-networking websites, how else would we keep up with who from high school had babies or got fat or married, what events are happening around town, who broke up with whom, and who’s going on vacation?
We need our online crutches, even as they slowly suck the life out of us.
 ILLUSTRATION BY DON BUTTON |
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So how do we begin to take back our backyards and enjoy the precious few weeks of sunshine that are left of this wretchedly waterlogged summer?
The process of reclaiming social ownership seems more complicated than just chucking laptops and phones out the window and breathing a sigh of relief. It’s about asking ourselves, “Why is it more important that my online microcosm of connections knows that I’m eating this cheeseburger than it is to actually taste this cheeseburger?” It’s gooey and plump, and there’s juices from it running down my arm, and that’s what this simple pleasure should be about—not wiping my fingers on the side of my jeans in my haste to tell the world what I’m doing this instant.
(Easier said than done—over the course of writing this article, I’ve tweeted twice and checked my Facebook page about 40 times. Research. That’s what I’m calling it. Not pathetic, just research.)
Ultimately, there’s a decision to be made: Would you rather read a poorly spelled, hastily written one-liner about how your “friend” went to a movie, or would you rather go to the movies yourself? Click on a link to a blog about waterskiing, or jump in a lake? It’s a screamingly Pollyanna-ish notion, but the key to giving up online addiction seems to be to substitute it with real-time action, to remind yourself that, ultimately, your best moments will be actual, not virtual, and that it’s OK if your entire realm of contacts isn’t updated on how you’re feeling about the ice-cream cone you purchased nine seconds before pushing “send” on a text message to Twitter.
A few of my friends recently pared down their Facebook connections, “un-friending” anyone with whom they aren’t personally acquainted. Some have sworn off Facebook altogether. I may follow suit—at least until I can thwart my own “Look at me! Look at me!” compulsions to share my business with the world.
It’s the first step I’m making toward actually enjoying my summer. So, unless you hear about it directly from my mouth (not my fingers), you won’t hear a peep—or a tweet—about it. I’ll be outside, unplugged, hearing only the birds and the tourists, not my CrackBerry, chirping.
Will the forthcoming college co-eds follow suit? After all, the requisite “What I Did on My Summer Vacation” essay surely requires more effort than simply aggregating and printing your barbecue-related tweets. What are you going to write about, kiddies, if all you have to write about is writing about things? Meta? Yes. But, sadly, increasingly on point. Now, excuse me. I have to go create a TinyURL for this article and blast it to my friends on Facebook.
This story originally ran in the Boston Phoenix.
