Monday, December 29, 2008

The strange allure of Facebook

I think it was Elizabeth Ingram-Schindler who turned me on to Facebook. She asked if I was "on Facebook," which I sorta was (meaning I'd responded to someone's invitation and had uploaded a profile). I checked into it again and this time stuck my toe in.

My first search was for friends from my pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. Sure enough, there was Stephan from South Africa. Then there was his friend Trevor. Soon I was connected to my Camino friends Dani (Berlin) and Trevor R. (Ohio/Connecticut). After that, I was being contacted by friends from Wenatchee, friends from high school, fellow United Methodist clergy, church members. And on and on.

Then I started getting into seeing what people were posting. Conner is tired. Lorie slept in. David preached a good sermon. Trevor went four-wheeling. All silly, all mundane, all superficial.

Soon I was posting my own silly, mundane, superficial stuff. So, world, I'm proud of my turkey burgers. Or happy about the snow.

Facebook doesn't give much depth to communication. You'll never know the real person by reading Facebook. But boy does it give width to communication. I know a tiny bit about way more of my friends now. A mile wide and an inch deep, I guess. But it all makes for fun, passes the time, and keeps me out of trouble.

And now people know I'm a fan of John Wesley and Jon Stewart, of Alfred North Whitehead and Stephen Colbert. Not deep knowledge of me, not revealing, but a tiny glimpse to tickle someone's interest and maybe share a laugh.

1 comment:

  1. Just FYI, my last name isn't hyphenated. Oh, and I found your blog through your facebook page. :)