I’m not the biggest fan on Facebook. I don’t care about the egg you found, or What G0d Told You to Think Today, or your Teletubby name. I rarely update my status, because it would look like this, “Going to court,” “It’s raining again,” or “I really need to stop surfing the Internet and get back to work.” And really, who cares? But, through Facebook, I have reconnected with old friends, and I do enjoy looking at my friends’ photos, etc. So, I check in on Facebook probably once a week.
And, inevitably, on that one day a week, Facebook is always telling me to reconnect with the same person – you haven’t spoken to so-and-so in awhile – it’s time to send him a message! And who is this person – the first boy to ever ask me out – we carpooled to Hebrew School, he sent me a Valentine, I said no. He was a strange kid, wore a trench coat and carried a briefcase in sixth grade. That’s not why a said no, though – I didn’t think I was too good for him, or anything like that – just in sixth grade, it freaked me out – it was weird, and I was a dorky kid myself. Anyway, he was a year ahead of me in high school, and when Hebrew school stopped, so did our acquaintance. He always annoyed me a little – he annoyed everyone a little – although, he was always endearing.
So, when he friended me on Facebook, I was like, eh – he’s kind of annoying, but he’s also kind of endearing, and I would feel badly if I didn’t, so I did. And, on Facebook, again, he was a little annoying – leaving stupid messages on my wall, etc. But, when I thought about unfriending him, I would look at his wall, and I felt too guilty – nothing had changed, annoying, but a nice guy in his weird way. So, I just ignored his silly inquiries and went about my Facebook business, which has nothing to do with purple cows, or mafia hits, or joining a group called, “I love Flipflops.”
And then, tragically, he died. Had a brain hemorage, and died. Tragic. Awful. And, when my mom called to tell me that he had died, my reaction was, “He’s not dead, he’s on Facebook.”
And, he’s still on Facebook. Everytime I load up Facebook, it tells me to send him a message – reconnect!
Can you unfriend a dead person? I don’t think you can – that’s just kind of mean. And, look, I don’t get choked up everytime I see his picture – but I’m sure some people do. So, today, I clicked on his page, and people are still leaving him messages – and I just think that’s weird. Like Facebook is the new Quija board or something – that you can send a message on Facebook, and the tragically dead person is going to read it? I’ve never been strong on spirituality – but to me, there’s something not only not comforting about communing with the dead through a computer medium, but also, it’s cheap – to send heartfelt messages that are sandwiched in between “so and so found an egg,” and “so and so found a stash of blackmail photos.”
I guess I’m sounding judgmental – if it gives someone comfort, so be it, do it, whatever gets you through the day. I guess it’s more productive than virtual farming.