Found Time

Carol's comment yesterday allows me to continue the conversation.  Feel free to chime in below.

I made some fundamental changes in my lifestyle before we went to Little Cuter's house last month.  I decided to abstain from alcohol and Facebook for the duration of our visit.  

Given that SIR is a purveyor of wine and spirits, the first part of the resolution was a tough one.  He's always got something new to share, something wonderful and unusual and cutting edge.  While I did try a vodka/cucumber/sparkling, fizzy can, it was awful and I could only manage 2 sips.  SIR was not insulted; it's a new product and those were samples in the DBF.

 (Designated Beer Fridge, which lives in the garage and has, until the onset of parenthood, contained only grown up beverages.  Now, fruit juice boxes share the bottom shelf uneasily with soda and sparkling waters.).

I had no trouble declining a night time cocktail; I sleep better when alcohol is not involved.  I didn't lose any weight - which was one of the reasons I was abstaining - but I reassured myself that vodka and cranberry juice were not essential parts of my day.  There was nothing special missing from my life.  Ted Lasso was just as sweet and funny with a straight head.

Leaving Facebook was another matter entirely.  I've been aggravated with Mark Zuckerberg and the lack of responsibility he's taken for allowing his platform to be overtaken by crazies.  Don't publish information without an editor or two checking reliability.  Don't put out into the public space that which should be hidden under a rock.  You know it when you see it - You can stop it.

Sister to Niece, the Younger:  Didn't you go to school with Mark Zuckerberg?  Why didn't you connect with him?  He's a gazillionaire now.

Niece to My Sister:  MOM, did you ever try to talk to Mark Zuckerberg? He's awful.

Now, it's possible that I am giving too much credence to the disdain dished out by an annoyed adolescent, but nothing over the past decades has happened to change my mind.  Fools rush in, where angels fear to tread.... and they fear because there are consequences to ones actions, even if you are the epitome of white privilege, protected from insult and injury by wealth and education, assured by birth and Harvard of smooth sailing through life.  

Profiting off the demise of democracy, knowing what they were doing, they were, as Daddooooo would say, laughing all the way to the bank.  I was uncomfortable with being part of the business plan.  

I posted that I was leaving.  Friends from afar were sad, and so was I.  I knew I'd miss seeing their  grandkids growing up.  I was giving up the comments on those pictures, the snippets that gave me a glimpse into the lives of those I'd left behind. Those connections became very important during Pandemica.  Those were the only friends I could see, the only random encounters for more than a year.  

There was the pandemic itself, and then there was Trump. Having someplace to vent my spleen (occasionally), to read that which only fueled my passions, to be able to like snarky truths as I struggled to feel anything but despair.  I never got  into binge watching videos of babies lip syncing Mick Jagger; I'd just check back all through the day, just in case anything happened..... anywhere....

I was drawn to it.  Even when the politics waned and I began to breathe again, I found myself in the time suck of Facebook.  And it was boring.  As people began to live real lives, there were fewer and fewer interesting posts. 

Or, I asked myself, was I just done?  

There was a lot to amuse me in Indiana.  There was always a child or two craving attention.  Losing at Uno (she well and truly beat me the first time she played) was a much better use of my time than scrolling.  Watching television without a device in my lap was a totally different experience. (It was always tv worth watching; this visit mostly Ted Lasso).

Toward the end of the visit, I removed the Facebook icon from my phone's screen.  It's hiding there in apps rather than taunting me as I scroll.  I can find it if I need it, but so far that need has not come up.  

I wonder about some of my friends, those who live very far away but who whose frequent posts made them feel like neighbors.  I may just collect land addresses and begin using some of the fabulous stationary I bought during Pandemica...... I bought a lot of stationary during Pandemica......  when I wasn't on Facebook, looking for adventure and connection.

By now, everyone who was ever going to find me that way has done so.  That's a good thing, because I haven't opened it since the end of May.  Occasionally, a notice will come up that the grandkids are making a photographic appearance and I click on the link without thinking further than GIBLET FLAPJILLY GIBLET FLAPJILLY.  I admire them and then I click away.  

I'm not tempted to delve further.  Not even a little bit tempted.  

Last night I read Vanity Fair while the Suns lost to the Clippers.  A year ago, I'd have had my face in Facebook, or a down a rabbit hole Facebook created for me.  Less screen time feels more virtuous, too.  I'm not sure if that's shaming or cancel culture or dismissive or haughty or why do I care..... I just know that it feels that way.

Carol, it seems that this is another cleansing, another lesson learned.... another consequence (?gift?)  from Pandemica..