They are here. Some were invited, many were not. They make a mockery of the customs, ridicule the lifestyles, violate rules, and try to get others to be
their ‘friends’. As they move about in their new circles they do so without regard to an established protocol and order. The natives become purveyors of persistent indoctrination that requires involvement with a group of people that routinely embarrasses themselves without regard and generally, just don’t seem to get it.
These interlopers enter this new world with a smug, ‘can’t touch me’ attitude as they stumble about while learning the language and procedures. Social ineptness is the neophytes calling card.
Who are these aliens?
It is I, and my group. The over 50 adult that has been lured into the world of Facebook where those we once taught are now the teachers. Many of us have been baited into this world by our own children who claim to love us but now see this as their chance to expose us for what we are; analog antiques in a digital world. They give us the keys to their car but never bother to teach us to parallel park or that there are certain rules of the road on their information highway.
We sign up, log-in, and expose ourselves to their landmines on every page. Tagging a picture, updating a status, writing on someone’s wall, chatting, and posting; make one wrong move and the consequences begin. It’s a free, interactive People Magazine featuring us, the common schlub; and it talks back. How could any parent resist the chance to be ‘somebody’ again? We want to try all of Facebook’s bells and whistles like a kid with a new toy and in short order, we unknowingly breach the limits and break the toy. Snide comments, terse replies, and the “what were you thinking” phone calls are instantaneous from our loving children that invited us to their party. Who knew?
“You can’t say that”, “don’t post that there”, “that’s not what the wall is for,” “what did you upload that picture for”?, “you sound like a parent”.
“Yeah, well … I am a parent”.
After the first few days of incessant Facebook probing, (all newbies seem to go through this phase) I decided to go cold turkey and return to being an adult, at least for a day. Maybe my curiosity was sufficiently satisfied or maybe I just didn’t care anymore about who Johnny was partying with and that he had a big headache or that Susie is having a bad day. The real trouble is that I just don’t get it, which is the biggest problem with being old in the Facebook world. But that old and mature stuff isn’t all it’s cracked up to be either. The interesting thing is that it’s like the car wreck that you tell yourself not to look at, but you do anyway. So, my self imposed exile lasted just until somebody some young kid or better yet, another 50 year old sends a Facebook message asking for permission to be my friend.
What is that? Are we in high school?
Yes, BasicMan, so stop acting your age.