So yesterday I get this friend request on Facebook from Jeffrey somebody. No recognition. I see he’s from my graduating class at high school. I look back at the name . . . nothing. I see he’s a friend of someone else I do know. I try to swim back up the stream of degrees of separation, mmm, nope. Picture . . . crickets . . . not happening. I have no idea who Jeffrey Whatshisbutt is. So either he was actually in some class that I had 20-yea-hoo years go and has one of those memories (bastards, hate ‘em all), or he’s trying to pad his friends list as quickly as possible with anyone who has even the weakest connection.
Which is kind of the opposite of what I’m finding rather charming about Facebook. My little (and I do mean little) friends list is populated with people that I know. It’s like having my own little rural village, where I can look over the fence and see who’s doing what (Oh, Q’s up to thus-and-such. Isn’t that nice?). You can give them a little wave, or say “howdy, neighbor!” Plus, it’s a village populated by people I like. There’s no evil Miss Gulch to avoid down at the General Store.
So, I’m pretty much going to do Jeffrey Whoseitts like I would have done in high school. Ignore him and hope he goes away. Course with his fifty-eleven hundred friends, I’m guessing he won’t notice. Some of us choose a village. And I'm particular about who gets to move inside town limits. With his friends list, it looks like he’s moving to the big city.
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Since my FB page is also my business oage - I'm more open - my policy is: sure, join up, but you get you two strikes and your out - post any porno or weirdness and your outta there.
Oh, yeah. That's a totally different thing. If I was a writer, or in a band, or a local charity, I'd want that friends list stocked. And I can totally see the advantage of that kind of branding. But if you're just Joe Schmoe, you do not have 5,000 friends. And you can't read 5,000 times whatever posts a day. That's just silliness.
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