How Facebook Warms My Soul & Validates My Existence, by Kevin McBeth
My obsession with Facebook is something I’ve finally stopped trying to deny or pretend away. It fills my days and haunts the dreams I would normally have, but don’t because I’m up all hours scrolling and trolling. When my children call to me, “Daddy, look at what I just made for you,” or, “Daddy, can you please pay attention to me now?” or, “Daddy, look at me, I’m swimming in the deep end for the first time!” chances are, you’ll find me cuddled up, clicking through some treasure such as, “Which ‘Throw Mama From the Train’ character matches your personality?”, or something equally adventurous.
I know some people can take or leave Facebook, come and go as they please and participate whenever it suits their schedule. But not me. I’m all in. In a world full of uncertainty and chaos, Facebook is the cool, shaded meadow in which I can lie for hours on end, undisturbed and unburdened by responsibilities, tact, individuality, manners, or rules of syntax. It is a triumphant escape – a metaphoric plane ticket to the most beautiful places on Earth. But it is also the pungent doorway of the seedy bar I’ve always wanted to enter, and been scared to. Facebook provides a voyeuristic glimpse into both luxury and filth – my envy-soaked longing for a more opulent life, as well as my unshakeable need to judge the depravity surrounding the sad lives of others. It is “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous” AND “Hoarders” living under the same roof. At any given Facebook moment, I can watch a small child in a foreign country eat a live snake he’s pulled from a puddle, and then instantaneously click to the perfect recipe for huckleberry cobbler – all in the same gratifying thumb stroke. Facebook’s endless pleasure pockets deliver a peek into places where I should not go, while revealing things I never knew existed, and cannot do without. The same little voice in my head that is continually saying, “Well, maybe I’ll get to bed early tonight and get a good night’s sleep,” always seems to get drowned out by the other little voice that says, “Well, here we go again. Looks like I’ll be up ‘til 3 am watching civilian street fight videos.”
Facebook’s endless pleasure pockets deliver a peek into places where I should not go, while revealing things I never knew existed, and cannot do without.
All this is of course because of my obsession toward the grotesque. My own need to connect with the world’s squalor is also something I can’t shake, and Facebook gives me a VIP pass. As I explore, I am disgusted with the figures and footage on my little rectangular screen, but not disgusted enough to click away. And so I sit. There are moments when I haven’t seen my family in days, and all I can think about is, should I check out this video of “Woman confrunts (sic) hairdresser with baseball batt (sic)”? Do you even need to ask? Or maybe someone has shared, “Totally sic (sic) mall escalator face plants of 2015…” Yep, sign me up for that one. How about, “Walmart drug deals gone sour FAST!”? I might even bookmark that bad boy and come back to it on my birthday. Because let’s face it. I am not exactly the kind of person that will sit on a bucket outside a trailer eating mayonnaise straight from a jar, but I’ll be gosh-darned if I’m not going to exercise my right to watch videos of those that do. Furthermore, if these people are willing to take the time to record these extraordinary glimpses into their world, then I feel like I owe them the respect that my watching provides. I am nothing if not an emphatic supporter of the Arts.
Celebrity deaths are another fun part of the Facebook experience. I try to wake up early each day to get the jump on all the new celebrity deaths. These are also a fun share outlet that add to my popularity as well. It gives me yet another role as messenger and provides a nice little connection to the celebrity. “Oh no, not the drummer from Drivin N Cryin,” I think, my heart turning to pure shadow. “Well, I guess there’s no putting this off. I better let everyone know.” This reminds my circle of friends that I’ve obviously got some special bond with the dead person — George Michael or John McCain or Leonard Nimoy or whomever. “Rest in peace, my brother,” I’ll caption it, as if I’m literally reaching into the casket and placing coins on the eyelids of the deceased. “Goodbye, Charlie Daniels,” I’ll post, “I’ll never know another like him.” It’s as if I’ve just gotten word from Charlie’s family directly, and now it’s ok to let everyone else know. Just weeks ago, I had to be one to let everyone know when Michael J. Fox passed away, and I wasn’t particularly comfortable with it, but it definitely had to be done. It’s never easy, it’s never comfortable, but it’s what we do. We share, and we heal. Never mind, just kidding. He’s not really dead.
Community and Love
The closeness of our Facebook community is what makes membership particularly special. We really are a sort of family that looks out for one other. Alone at night, I can share a heartwarming tale or random thought, and suddenly there are two dozen friends in my bedroom, hand holding and nurturing me through my struggle. I’ll post, “Man, another 2 am headache. Awake again!” and almost instantly, I’ll have friends from all over the globe giving the warm, meaningful response that I crave: “That’s rough, man. Hang in there, you got this.” “Oh, no! Have you tried drinking lukewarm soup through a twisty straw? Works for my cousin.” “Sorry to hear, Bro. Sending back rubs from a distance.” “Have you tried watching late night civilian street fights?”
Lego my Ego
Next, let’s talk ego. Specifically, mine. Most of us can readily agree that there is no greater measurement of a person’s value than the number of “likes” they receive from total strangers on social media. Hard to admit, but we all know it’s the truth. I won’t lie, there is no greater feeling than the self-affirming feedback that lets me know that these people really do care about me, and that I am making the world a better place. I often daydream about all the people that have wronged me over the years, now scouring my Facebook page with jealousy. All the tough guys that pushed me down in the schoolyard. Sure, but who’s got 204 friends now, Tommy Hoffstra? All the girls in high school that never bothered to give me a second glance. It’s not hard to imagine them looking at my life now with a bit of regret and sadness. That 109 ‘likes’ on the shepherd’s pie photo from last night? Sorry, ladies, but all of that could’ve been yours, too, if you’d played your cards right.
Glorious Consumption
Let’s face it. In this day and age, we are surrounded by good, reliable news information everywhere we turn: Instagram, Twitter, Myspace, WhatsApp, Candy Crush, etc. With all this out there, it’s hard to know where to go to get today’s big stories. And while these are all great places to sculpt one’s world view and to force it upon others, Facebook is one-stop shopping for all the expertly researched news. Why go anywhere else? Why buy the newspaper when you can get the milk free? Every Facebook post is a hotbed of journalistic integrity – truth on the vine, ripened with trust, and free for the picking.
I adore Facebook for its sheer volume of quality information and news. The term news “feed” is so aptly named, since it’s not unlike an all-you-can-eat-buffet of information. Or rather, a dirty potluck where everyone’s invited but nobody’s washed their hands. Either way, here I am, snout deep in the fly-covered potato salad, stuffing myself until I’m bursting, occasionally coming up for breath but only when absolutely necessary.
Sharing is Caring
But Facebook is not a one-way street, or a spectator sport – at least not for us thriving members. I must do more than simply process and consume. It is vital to give back to the community that has given me so much over the years. I must share. In that regard, Facebook is a full-time job. I can’t go anywhere or do anything without viewing the world through my permanent Facebook lens: Is that an impressive picture? Is this odd, is it quirky? Quirky enough? Too quirky? What is my audience going to be looking for today? A simple drive down the road and I’m suddenly Ansel Adams, pulling over to capture a sunset because, chances are, nobody’s ever seen a sunset like this one! Is there a misspelling on an ad, or some particularly clever bumper sticker that might garner some laughter? What clever caption would tie all of this together? Every person I come into contact with is a potential character in my Facebook narrative. Every animal, scene, or meal is an opportunity to impress others. Every event in my day is a self-indulgent play-by-play and my friends are lucky participants in my commentary: “Are you kidding me? Mosquito bites on BOTH ankles?! Welcome to my world, people.”
But with membership comes immense responsibility. It takes a village, and I’ll be the first to admit that I can’t do it all myself. I have my crack team of researchers I trust to provide me with the most reliable and tantalizing posts that my audience needs and expects. For anything related to politics, I share stuff from my Uncle Flemm who lives in Ohio. He has a sweet knife collection and he once pushed over an old lady who was kneeling for the National Anthem, so obviously, he knows what’s up. His posts are great for when I need to share a viewpoint from someone who’s not afraid to “tell it like it is.” For anything connected to women’s issues, I have a friend in Florida that I go to every time. He used to be a bartender at a TGIFriday’s, but now he’s an evening shift manager at TGIFriday’s, so there ya go. Like I said, he lives in Florida, so obviously, he’s pretty in tune with today’s woman. I also have a lot of friends that are teachers and I trust them to share good information on Education-based and family-related topics. Because most of them are teachers and parents, nobody has ever really listened to them, so I figure they must be due. I mean, why not, right? At least their stuff’s gonna be spelled right. Their posts are also full of good Science, which seems to be really popular now. Everybody in this country believes in Science and loves to dig into a good scientific read. If it’s one thing I’ve always said, it’s that the validity of Science will never go out of style. I’m glad that’s one thing we can all agree on.Occasionally, I come across a story or a post that I can only describe as, “This.” Because when you say, “This,” you truly mean, “This.” Not that. Certainly not these, but simply, “this.” Which basically means you better get ready, because it’s going to be good. A Whole New Approach to Getting Your 6 ½-year old to Listen? This. Nine Steps to Forgiving Yourself for that Thing You Did Before You Met Your Spouse? This. “This” pieces are the greatest hits album of Facebook. They’re exquisite. I can’t help but picture a guy in an office, telling his secretary, “OK, Sharon. Hold my calls and clear my afternoon. I’ve got something here that needs my full and undivided attention.” Sharon will pivot on her step back to her desk, turn with a face full of curiosity and ask, “Oh, Mr. Brownstone, really? What is it?”, and of course, with a look of firm seriousness, he’ll reply, “This.”
The Future of Facebook
Years from now, I’d like to think my family will remember me for what I was: a perfect person, a loving husband, and a nurturing father? Hardly. Just a simple man, a first generation Facebooker that toiled and scrolled all day long and well into the night, even on holidays and during birthday parties… just to stay informed and maybe even bring a little something special into this world.
There are times, though, that I watch my three young children running around the yard, riding their bikes, squeezing Legos together, and I worry that they may not one day gain the appreciation for a good three hour Facebook squabble that I’ve come to appreciate. Kids these days are so inundated with endless stimuli – conversation, physical movement, sunlight – that it’s hard as a parent to ensure that they receive the proper exposure to everything this world can offer, (a good punch to the testicles vid or a life-altering meme of Debbie Gibson, for example.) But if we, as parents, teachers, adults, and clergy, continue to have a camera in their faces 24/7, and continue to spend those necessary hours scrolling through all of life’s beautiful moments, capturing and sharing everything, digging out both the beautifully glittery and the dismally fetid parts of society … if we keep that feed bag strapped on and that little screen lighting up our faces every time their sweet little eyes attempt unsuccessfully to meet our gaze… if we continue to provide our kids with these strong examples… then the chances are pretty good that the next generation will latch onto what we have to provide them. Time will tell. But it certainly sounds like a future worth fighting for. And that sounds like a future that I would most certainly like to share.
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