Boomerbook

Sitting around my grandmother's living room visiting with 3 generations of S-Dub's family tree, there are topics you'd expect to arise: The weather. Who has recently died. That darn government trying to take elderly drivers off the road. (Here here Grammy!) Black people. ( No Grammy, no.)

But tonight, a new topic: Facebook. No, neither Zane nor I brought it up, but my 61-year-old uncle was proudly discussing his profile. Facebook. You have betrayed us. I don't know about you, but I remember when this crazy thing, often referred to as "The" Facebook for the first month, arose back in my early college days. The concept of connecting college campuses was awesome. I even remember the joy when new colleges joined the network and other friends in nearby universities could chat.

But then Facebook sold its soul to the devil. High schoolers. Here I thought that was the end of the world. It had muddied its water with this glitter crazed, book covered, notepads doodled to high heaven brood. Little did I know what was to come. Now everyone has a "status" and wants to gift me a puppy or some crappy heart. What does this all mean? What is the point? When did we fall off the path of just wanting to keep in contact? Now I've got people poking me left and right and I just don't like it.

It feels wrong having to "friend" my uncle, or aunt, or cousin. There is no "family" option. Heck, my brother ignored my request for him to be acknowledged as my brother for 3 weeks. You can't hide from the truth Stainless Neil! Those days, weeks, even months waiting for family to befriend you and acknowledge your pathetic request... heartwrenching. But after tonight's talk I realize I have been mistaken. My uncle is not twiddling his thumbs assessing my track record of friendships, not counting how many fans I have, even seeing what I've been up to lately or how sassy my status update is. He's just trying to figure out how to log on.