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Kent’s Korner

No Comments16 August 22:52

Friends, Insults & Pokes

by Kent Lynch


If you had asked me a couple of years ago how many friends I had, I probably would have said a few dozen I guess.  Today, I can proudly boast that I have 428 friends.  I’m not really sure if that’s 428 people who actually like me or if they’re just using me to boost their friend total.  Now that I’m approaching mid-forties, I can’t remember 428 names, so I guess it’s a good thing I gave into the Facebook craze.


Do Facebook friends really count in your total friend tally?  I mean when you take out my wife, kids, sister, parents, in-laws and cousins, I’m not left with that many people who actually want to spend time with me in person, so I like to think that my 428 is a legitimate number.


I refused to sign up for Facebook at first because I knew I’d spend all my free time looking at what everyone else is doing, ie. doctor’s visits, soccer games, in-laws’ houses and public toilets…yes, someone tagged themself at a public toilet.  I finally gave in and the entertainment (streamed right to my iPhone) began.


I know where everyone is…all the time, even if I don’t want to know.  I read about health ailments (some very descriptive), personal issues (that probably should stay personal) and what sports everyone’s kids are playing on a given day.  It’s awesome, like a soap opera and you sort of know all the characters.


I’ve never been all that social, so it works for me…kind of like talking to friends without actually having to talk to them.  I can keep up with the high school and college friends without calling or traveling, and they can get a dose of my sharp, jabbing insults without having to come face-to-face.


I know when everyone’s birthday is and Facebook even reminded me about my anniversary, not that I needed reminding of course.  There are a few things I don’t understand though, like how it suggests pages for you.  The other day, it suggested that I might like Barack Obama…wow, they were way off on that one.  Or, a few days ago, someone poked me…at first I wanted to poke them back and then I realized I don’t even know what that means.  Am I supposed to be mad about it?  It made me want to call them and ask them why the heck they’re poking me…what did I do to them?  I left it alone, but when I see them, this may not be over.


See you at the next one,

Kent Lynch

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