Facebook Frivolity

Sallie Smith has requested your friendship.

I must confess, I do relish in being pursued. Since I joined Facebook last week, the names have flash-danced across my yahoo inbox: some familiar, some unknown, some unleashing insecurities last endured in the sixth grade locker room. Still, the majority of notifications elicit the smug gratification of a well-timed high five. It feels good to be liked. It is good to have friends. And even better, to flaunt them out in the open.

What is this Facebook phenomenon? Is it simply the latest in e-trends, propelling the streaming shift from letters to phone calls, from email to texts, from messaging to “friending”? Is it coincidence that this new generation of communication is even less communicative than the one prior? Could Facebook just be another way to indulge our friendship sloth?

Composing letters demand time. They are drafted with measured penmanship on crisp stationary and sealed with actual human saliva. You search in vain for the correct address, sized envelope, and currently valid stamp. You tromp three blocks in the snow to a squatty blue-boxed oasis with a squeaky metal shoot and then, trust it all to the US Postal Service. You wait. You have invested the time and energy and now you endure the quaintly old-fashioned delay of receipt. But, then it is received, and for a moment, you cause someone to feel as idolized as a first born grandchild.

Chatting over the telephone allows for more spontaneity and instantaneous banter, but still, consumes the clock. Phone talk demands a chunk of our day to truly catch someone up on our life, especially those out-of-the-loop, long distance friends we feel obligated to ring on major holidays. Personally, I tend to delay those calls, knowing thirty minutes will never suffice – only to determine a week later than the required minimum time has swelled to a deterrent forty-five. If you’re like me, we spot certain names on caller IDs and usher them straight to voicemail, especially if they’re brazen enough to call halfway through Grey’s Anatomy.

Alternatively, emails are succinct, colloquial and uninhibited. We don’t have to spell correctly, remember “i” before “e”, or edit for parallel structure. They are as unobtrusive as midnight custodians, doing their job, but not expectant of gratitude or fanfare. Unfortunately, they can also reek of self-indulgence. Emails are dispensed as blithely as they are dismissed. We are all guilty of dropping the dutiful, “What’s new?” without having to commit to an actual conversation. We check the person off our “to-do” list and strategically, it becomes their “turn” – their prerogative to respond when they have time. After all, we have to get to the gym, pick up the dry cleaning, refuel the sedan, and order pepperoni pizza. We are busy. They are busy. No one has to sacrifice.

T2UL Talk to you later. Anyone over twenty-five, may find it increasingly vital to enroll in a class on the language of text. In this adolescent universe, complete sentences are discouraged and the least number of letters to convey a point is studied, revered and emulated like primate tool use in chimpanzee populations. Brevity reigns and eloquence is discouraged. Texts can be typed and transmitted in a span of seconds – in the cab, under the dinner table, or in a movie theater, simply to irritate the patrons behind you. Dude, this flick blows – LOL.

And now, with even less effort you can connect to your peers with an instant search and swift click of the mouse. To “friend” someone has been conjugated into an active verb without any action or verbalization. This behavior is catapulting forth a generation of students who connect primarily online. Any alternative fraternizing rarely occurs sober. The solidarity of a handshake, an intimate phone call, or shared experience is not vital to the modern concept of friend. All you need is a name, modem, and sleek Mac Air.

As of this morning, I had 79 friends. I don’t think that is considered impressive, although I am doing better than the suburban moms who signed up to post photos of their kids and months later can’t remember their log-in codes. Still, it is not college sophomore caliber either. I do presume my list is more qualified. In fact, I ventured into this process, curious to discover whom I might unearth, but also weary of polluting my posse with former high school classmates I never respected, let alone extended a solitary thought to in twelve years. But, these random friend requests nudge their way into my utopia and threaten its very purity. Like sex without a condom, these outliers are hard to resist. This guy would put me over #80 and after all, I don’t want to damage an ego. In this spirit, posting on Facebook seems to mimic the rituals of thumping on chests or flaunting of feathers. Maybe it is more muted and certainly less barbaric than thrashing vines in the jungle, but it is a popularity contest. Plain and simple.

Web-based communication seems to have evolved into a sly craft. Suddenly, we can bypass having to nurture real and tangible relationships that involve coffee steam, nonverbal cues, and, if you’re lucky, a parting embrace. With the adoption of Facebook, we can “tickle”, “poke”, or send a clip-art carrot cake cupcake, but we are not touching anyone or turning on an oven. We reach out through wires, cables, and technology, but not with our hands or voices. Sallie Smith may post that she has a headache and Joe Johnson may have devoured an entire bag of Peanut M&M’s, but we are not invested. The communication is passive and suddenly the intimacies of friendship are reduced to a bulletin board of futile online post-it-notes.

Let’s consider how many of these freshly found pals we will actually develop any form of bond with over time? Perhaps when bored at work, we’ll spy on the attractiveness of an ex-boyfriend’s spouse or scoff at an old classmate’s smutty pictures from a bachelorette party. Maybe these tolerated voyeuristic opportunities will lead to envy, lust, or even appreciation. Or maybe it is all benign. Alternatively, we all could be threading a sharp needle.

Personally, I am terrified of inhabiting a world infected with indifference where friends are traded as cheaply as GM stock. Shouldn’t we be demanding personal investment, accountability, and reciprocity from the select individuals we call friends? I idolize a society steeping and swelling with spit-in-your-eye laughter, passionate kissing, and firm handshakes. Perhaps Facebook can work in our favor as long as we actively own our relationships and recite the golden rule of quality over quantity. New technology can latch on as innocently as our morning addiction to caffeine, but the consequences can be staggering if we displace the human element of socialization. I am not advocating for its demise, but I caution its utility.

Of course, Facebook might be an excellent tool for locating one’s freshman roommate or discovering fellow alums who live in the Bay Area. But, while we are gathering and hoarding like toddlers at an Easter egg hunt, perhaps we should take pause to ensure we aren’t just using each other to one-up our friend meters. After all, we may be tallying up the comrades, but if they are a bunch of limp handshakes, what’s the point? Besides, I’m certain all 79 of them don’t know - I prefer my cupcakes to contain actual calories.