I love Facebook.
I hate Facebook.
I love Facebook because it’s brought forth some new friendships. People like Dawn Neufeld and Wanda Cooper and Bill Oram and on and on and on. These are folks I’ve actually never met face to face, but folks I’ve come to know and like and trust. Wonderful.
I hate Facebook because it’s ruined some old friendships. Facebook is the land of slights and misjudgements; of learning that hard way that you and your family were not invited to events or included in outings.
I love Facebook because it’s reconnected me with tons of high school classmates, and that’s been tremendous. Folks like Amy Regan and Frank Zaccheo and Melissa Fiore Donna Massaro and Michele Sheehan and John Ballerini. Just fantastic.
I hate Facebook because it’s connected me to the political leanings of many high school classmates. And, coming from a pretty conservative neck of the woods, that’s been rough. Obama is a Muslim. Biden is a buffoon. Hillary is a bitch. Baltimore is filled with thugs. It hasn’t been pretty.
I love Facebook because it offers a great break from work. Doing the same thing for a bunch o’ hours? Take a few minutes and DM with Elizabeth Newman or Fiona Soltes. Fabulous.
I hate Facebook because it’s a time suck. I have work to do. Lots of work. But I just have to respond to that post about Obama being Kenyan! And look at my friend’s adorable children! And that’s a funny clip about Daniel Murphy! Fifty minutes later, I’m stuck in the hole.
I love Facebook because even my mom can figure it out.
I hate Facebook because even my mom can figure it out.
I love Facebook because I can see how young and cute my friends’ kids are.
I hate Facebook because I can see how old and crinkly my friends are.
I love Facebook because it allows one to have a voice.
I hate Facebook because it allows one to have a voice—and badly misuse it. Just yesterday evening, a high school classmate posted some mindless photo insulting Joe Biden. This happened, oh, two hours after the world learned of Beau Biden’s death—and I was livid. Really, incensed. So I fired off an angry word to this woman, included her in my status update and blocked her.
Shortly thereafter, I learned: A. She had no idea about Beau Biden’s death; B. She, too, lost a child.
I apologized, but I felt awful.
The best part about Facebook? It brings worlds together; merges ideas; introduces new concepts and feelings. That can be magical.
The worst part about Facebook? It’s a single dimension. And humans are not singularly dimensioned. We’re not merely liberal, conservative, Jewish, Christian, Met fan, Dodger fan, Taylor Swift fan, Fabolous fan, coffee lover, cat lover, hard worker, lazy teen, Florida retiree, Wisconsin fishermen. We are more than the labels assigned to us.
But here, in Facebook land, we are reduced to categories and lists.
I’m more than that.
We’re more than that.