Byting The Bullet And Logging Into Facebook
I finally broke down and turned on Facebook on the house computer. I call it the house computer because it lives upstairs and is anchored to my house by plugs and wires (lots and lots of wires), a printer, and some big glowing box down on the floor. My bride’s “Facebook machine” is the size of a magazine. She hasn’t put it down since Christmas two years back, except for church and Woman’s Club meetings. And now I know why!
You get the best news, or as our family calls it, “the good poop,” ALL DAY LONG! I’m seeing names I haven’t thought about in 40 years. And as I scan the ongoing drama, I see folks I know from way out in left field have friends I knew back in the day, way out in right field. It’s sensory overload. It does allow me to see what the grandchildren are up to, as all my millennials live on the ‘net. They make constant fun of me for being such a dinosaur.
I like the unit that lives upstairs best because it has a pretty big screen and a real, grownup-sized keyboard. Beside it on the table are many pairs of reading glasses, paper and pens for writing down stuff I want to follow up on, because I will never again find it on the machine, snacks, and my good nail clippers.
Looking at the room from a slight distance the other day, it occurred to me that it is beginning to get a sort of “man cave-ish” appearance. The day bed has two guitars, a ukulele, assorted tuners, some harmonicas, a few pillows, and a cowboy hat. The bench on the floor next to it has two half- filled bottles of water, a note pad and pens, a handful of Hershey kisses (Christmas red and green), three folded and slightly used paper towels, and an old copy of All Around Pennsauken. The “stuff” all sits within easy reach of my seat in front of the big screen on my computer. If I had a refrigerator in the room, I’d never have to come out.
My current interest in things computer has been fueled by my breakup with Comcast. I managed to lose all my e-mail stuff back to 2009, and failed to properly notify everyone of my change of address. I thought for a while I had lost all my writing and articles, but found it all. I won’t lose all that ‘til my computer crashes.
I found the new computer stuff to be a terrific outlet for my energy during the good wife’s healing process. She is almost all better now, after her escapades on the ice. Soon therapy will end, and she will once again be able to drive. Then I can leave the confines of the computer room and go back to my old, wicked ways. I miss my old ways. Back then, I could occasionally do something right. Not too much, mind you, but a little bit. Enough to feel good about myself. For the last two months, I don’t believe I have done one thing right: not the stove, the laundry, the dishes, and certainly not the shopping. Just yesterday, I foolishly tried fitting the 12 pillows back on the bed in the wrong order. And, a pillowcase was found to be inside out.
I think I’ll go tell my new 3,156 friends on Facebook about my problems. After I type this article, of course, and send it off on my shiny new e-mail. I just hope I have used the correct font this time, and I don’t have to retype my article.