Friday, August 31, 2012

Heartbreak & Love on Facebook

Florence Detlor declined my friend request.  Yes, that’s her real name, Florence Detlor.  She seems like a lovely person but there it is.  I’m rebuffed and I don’t care. 

I did hear that she’s spending all her time responding to those on her wait list.  The wannabes, the hangers-on.   

Everyone who’s anyone wants to suck up to Florence. 

Surely you’ve heard of Florence Detlor:  At 101 she’s the oldest member of Facebook.  Had her picture taken with Mark Zuckerberg and everything; but I don’t care.   

So what if she’s the reigning Queen of FB?  I would still call her out for breaking my heart, but it appears that she didn’t turn me away.  Facebook did!  Facebook inserted itself into my affairs with a hollow apology and an abrupt declaration - Sorry, Florence has too many pending requests for her friendship.   

As I said, everybody and his dog.  

I guess Mr. Z is her social secretary now.  Just because she’s OLD.  Really!  I think he’s getting a little big for his britches.  Who’s he to say Florence has too many friends? 

All right, I’ll admit it.  I don’t know Florence.  I’m not an acquaintance.  We didn’t go to school together.  After all, she graduated from Occidental College before my parents even met. 

But I’m not one of those who just goes about adding “friends” to pump my numbers.  I'm selective.  I have standards.   

You won’t find me “sharing” at random either.  Oh no.  I see a lot of cute puppies in my newsfeed that you’ll never see.   

OK, look.  That sounds selfish and it’s not what I meant.  I’m not keeping the puppies all to myself.  I just mean that I don’t knee-jerk share because the caption says, “Share if you love puppies.”   

As it turns out, I’m a little sick of puppies cluttering my newsfeed because some “friends” with weaker constitutions cannot stand up to the hysterical dares to share.  They seem to think if they don’t re-post every snapshot of every pooch with pleading eyes and a tilted noggin it might look like they don’t love puppies.  We can’t have that. 

And what about those posts that seem to shake their heads in dismay, expressing sadness at how few will re-post this American flag.  You don’t even care enough to click the button?!  You don’t support our troops or love your country?  I see.

How about this one - I love my kids more than life itself.  I will be there for them anytime, anywhere, no matter what.  Share if you love your kids and would do anything for them.

Oh man. 

That’s some sophisticated psychological bullying.  And it’s hard to resist.  Better to go ahead and “share” than to be thought an un-American bad parent by the 687 friends of the friends I’ve forgotten were on my friend list.  Right? 

Wrong! I’m just contrary enough to make this resolution:  If it says, “Share if...” I won’t share it.  You can’t make me.  

I confess it feels a little weird to be so defiant.  I’ve always been a good girl. 

But once, as an adult, I visited a church of the same persuasion I attended as a child back in Oklahoma.  The sermon, titled “Satan Wants You Dead,” reminded me of the myriad reasons I left that denomination to begin with – all the talk about what a bad person I am.   

In the lobby after the service, the minister and his wife greeted me and asked if I’d had a chance to sign their guest book.  “Yes, I did,” I replied, meaning I’d had the chance, but chosen not to.  I was glad I didn’t succumb to the pressure.  But now I understand how they must have felt when they checked the book later to find I declined their request.   

So I think I could deal if Florence herself chose not to add me to her long list of admirers.  I just wanted to be among those showing appreciation since she appears to be a life-long learner and a classy dame.  It’s OK.  I’m not hurt. 

But wait!  What’s this?!  Florence accepted my friend request?!  I was in line after all!  I’ll be her friend #1446!   

Thanks Mark, wherever you are.   

Share if you love Facebook.