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When it comes to social networking, I’m late to the party (again) and wearing the wrong clothes (again). Most people I know are on Facebook. I was not, until recently. My daughter and friends urged a Facebook page. I said I don’t need to be that public with every thought and mood. They said you already are, your work is all over the internet and you’re much more open there than people on Facebook are. My daughter set up the page, a girlfriend recently chose a new profile picture and I’m off and running, sort of. More like limping. In terms of original content, I’ve initiated practically nothing. I also haven’t “liked” much of anything and have “poked” absolutely no one. But of course I enjoy it when someone writes on my wall or “likes” a comment I’ve posted.
I love minutiae, and Facebook is one big scrolling treasure trove of minutiae. Wouldn’t you know by the time I finally develop this time-consuming habit of reading everything and saying nothing, I find that millions of other people have it too and have named it. I’m evidently a “lurker,“ which sounds unsavory. (Research indicates that lurkers make up over 90% of online groups.) And worse yet, people criticize lurkers. They call us lazy.
I marvel at the confidence of friends who post everything they think or do throughout the day, and I check their pages faithfully. Many people I work with in the arts and entertainment use Facebook for self-promotion and their dazzling creative processes spill out online for everyone to enjoy.
And the photos! Facebook is worth it just for the pictures.
So far I’ve posted only a profile picture. All of this could change, however, on any given day, because look at what’s happened so far: First I didn’t think I needed a Facebook page, then I didn’t want one, until I did. One morning I may wake up and decide to tell the whole world something, and on that day, when I post it on Facebook, I will have conquered the biggest doubt I have – which is, why would anybody care?
