It’s 1964. Imagine a housewife doing the family’s laundry in the basement of a modest house. Just as the washing machine rumbles into action, muffling all other sounds, she thinks she hears the telephone ringing upstairs. Because her sister is expecting a baby at any moment, the woman races to the wall-mounted phone in the kitchen, the home’s sole phone, with hopeful expectations. But she is disappointed. It is a Parent-Teacher Association mother, one she hardly knows. “I have a joke I just have to tell you,” the caller announces. She tells it without being given any encouragement or a hint of interest and hangs up. The woman does not find the story funny.
The housewife heads to the kids’ bedrooms upstairs to make their beds and tidy up. The phone rings again. The woman rushes downstairs, hopping over a Slinky and a doll’s shoe, and answers the phone again. It is the same PTA mother. “Frank and I went to La Chateau for dinner last night. It was really good,” she says. There is no elaboration. The call ends.
As the housewife returns to the kids’ rooms, the phone rings once more. Fearing it is the same woman, but hoping for news regarding her sister, she dashes to the phone. This time, however, it is her mother. “A gorgeous red rose bloomed overnight on the bush by the porch stairs,” she says and hangs up.
Thirty years later, 1994, the housewife’s daughter comes home from her law office. She sees the red light blinking on her telephone answering machine indicating she has messages and plays them. “I’m making lemon chicken and peas-and-carrots for dinner tonight,” her sister tells her. That is all she says. The next message is from a neighbor. “I took pictures of last night’s sunset,” she says and hangs up. The third message is from a college friend she hasn’t seen in years. “I saw the funniest cartoon in the New Yorker today. You just have to see it. April issue.” That was the entire message.
These incidents seem odd, don’t they? Short, incomplete, unnecessary, irritating. And imagined by me. But if they had happened and if they had happened to you, wouldn’t you be annoyed and angry?
Flash forward another thirty years to 2024. The lawyer, nearing the end of her career, is busy at her desk. Her cell phone beeps. She has a new Facebook post. Sent from an ex-coworker, it is a lengthy joke with a predictable punchline. It has been sent to her before. Three times. The first time was perhaps ten years ago. She is not amused.
A few minutes later another Facebook post appears. It is from her daughter-in-law. It is a photograph of a plate of food. “This is what Matt and I had for dinner last night.”
Before the post is scrolled away, another arrives. It is from a nature-loving neighbor, a very amateur photographer. “You just have to see this pic of last night’s gorgeous sunset,” she says. It is pretty, the woman notes to herself, but not exceptional. Just like one you sent yesterday.
The lawyer refocuses on her work. But ten minutes later, another Facebook message dings its presence. Now, what? the exasperated lawyer thinks. I have work to do. A picture of a dog appears. “Isn’t this the cutest pic of Carlyle?” the sender asks rhetorically. Or maybe he actually expects an answer. No. It is not the cutest pic of your damn dog, the woman thinks. Nor were the other twelve you sent this week. I would unfriend you were you not my son-in-law.
As she is leaving the office for the day, another Facebook post arrives. It is a cartoon, posted by someone the woman does not know. A casual friend, however, has commented, “LOL, so funny” to it, causing it to be forwarded to her. The woman doesn’t find it funny. In fact, she finds it childish and silly.
It is no wonder then that Facebook is losing followers faster than Glenn Close and Bradley Cooper lose Oscar races. Young people abandoned the site years ago. Older people, longtime loyal followers, are following suit. Countless frustrated people are fed up with the drivel shared.
Surely, some of these departures can be attributed to recent corporate changes. But not the majority. Most are the result of users’ misuse of the platform.
In its inception, the telephone was meant to be a quick, convenient method to share pertinent information and news. Email, many years later, was meant to do the same.
But something went wrong. The good intentions got derailed. Thousands of unnecessary emails, and then Facebook and other social media posts, were sent, cluttering up our minds and taking up too much of our time.
Instead of sharing valuable information, like the birth of a child, a new job, surgery updates, or a lottery win, people impulsively share mundane nonsense, exposing a chronic health problem: diarrhea of the typing fingers.
Well, actually that isn’t the problem. The problem might be something much deeper and more serious. It might be evidence of minor personality disorders and mental health issues.
By over-sending emails and over-posting on social media, perhaps we are baring our souls to hundreds of casual FB “friends” and social media followers, more than we intend.
Perhaps we are showing mere acquaintances and the world our insecurities, need for attention, loneliness, and fear of being forgotten. Perhaps we are exposing the dings, dents, and damage to our mental health inflicted on us by life to more people than we realize. Perhaps we need to edit and filter thoughts better, to control impulses better. Perhaps, we need to ask ourselves, “What do my posts say about me?”
- Facebook’s Fatal Flaw - October 30, 2024
- Just A Jock - February 29, 2024
- I Want Answers - January 31, 2024
