Zen and the meaning of Facebook

I spend a lot of time on Facebook. Maybe more than I should. Maybe not.

Thing is, I don't consider it a waste of time at all. Relationships are very important to me, and living down here in Houston as I do, I am a long way from the people I care about, in Wichita Falls and in Midland, and in other places.

If and when I visit my friends in those far away lands, the thing I most like to do is to sit and listen to them talk. I don't care if they tell jokes, gossip about the theatre, complain about the theatre, rant about politics - it doesn't matter, because I just love to hear them talk. If they occasionally let me join in for a quick word or comment, so much the better. But that can't happen very often - I can only go visit just so many times in a year.

Facebook gives me a virtual social life. Yes, I'd much rather be there in person with my people, sharing guacamole, hugging them, actually hearing them, smelling their after shave or cologne. But at least online, I can see the posts they offer, one after another, and I can go away and do chores and errands and then come back and see what was said while I was gone.

As for the games... well, if I play one, and you play the same one, and we send each other a cow or a chicken or a mango tree... and if I send you a Mafia Wars getaway car and you send me a .22 pistol (which I don't really need), then the same purpose is served as if we had exchanged actual phsyical gifts - is it not? If you give me a smores maker, does it matter if I need it, does it matter what it cost, does it matter if I ever use it or not, does it matter if I already had six of them in the closet? No, the thought is literally what counts. You thought of me enough to give it to me, and the message was "I see you, I like you and I'm glad you exist," whether there was a card saying it or not. It is the same with a game on Facebook: we play it together, just as we might at a small party, just as we might if you came over to visit with a Scrabble board. Would I rather be in person with you? Of course I would! But virtual, while not to be confused with reality, is truly the next best thing to reality.

If you do or don't play the games, at least I can see what you say, and comment on it, and there is a sort of fellowship to experience. I can see the pictures you upload, and enjoy them, and remember how you look in person, and see Jena's twins holding hands in their car seats, and see Hilary snuggling with her SO, and read about Midland Lisa's mysterious Body Pump activities in Midland, and WF Lisa's family in Wichita Falls, and my favorite cousin in Kentucky when she finds the time to post. I can hear from Maria in Albuquerque, and know that she is OK this week, and I can find out I fought as Beau's or Greg's capo (whatever that is) and snagged $34 from some rival gangster. I can accept a coconut tree or a goat from Allison, whose father I used to sing for when he was a choir director at church and at MSU. I can learn when Jenn's poor bruised body is sore from Lisa's Body Pump torture session. I can learn that I don't know about some of them as much as I thought I did.

And I can let them know when my cat dies, and when I am about to go clean Carlsbad Cavern again, or when I am going to show up at Mummers on the way back through to Houston. Or I can just let them know when I am feeling a little down, and they give me a virtual attaboy to make me feel better.

Yes, the games are inane and silly. Yes, none of you are really, truly here in my little office. Yes, I wish I could be there in your presence, in reality, more often. Yes, I know that my flat panel monitor is no substitute for the sound of your voice. But limping is better than a wheelchair, fuzzy vision is better than blindness, and a virtual hug is better than no hug at all. It may be all electrons and ones and zeros moving across data lines, but it's still love because you're a real person whom I know, somewhere up in WF or over in Midland.

Facebook is right up there with cell phones. It can be annoying in the wrong context, but I sure am glad it's there when I need you to be there.

Now... who needs some zinnias?