There are a lot of perks to Facebook. You get to connect with people from your past whom you never thought you’d “see” again, though you may not form a solid friendship, it’s at least nice to check in every now and again. You get to stay updated with good friends and family who live far away. If you’re like me, you get to post four thousand pictures a week on silly things; training; Hamburger Mary’s meals; competitions; and how cute my kiddos and my Bigg man, AND my dogs are. The coolest thing about FB is that you get to become “friends” with famous people. You get an insight to their life; their training; their family, etc. You follow along on their journeys and for the crazy, you get to feel as if you ARE friends.
There’s the LuLz of Facebook too. The high maintenance folks who post every feeling, thought, and frustration they feel (WTF did these people do before FB?!) There’s pictures posted of people doing the most redunkulous fails in gyms all around the world. There are e-cards that will keep you rolling and plenty of puppy pictures that will make you go, “Awwwwwww.”
The biggest thing I’ve noticed about Facebook is that you get a glimpse of some people’s Highs; and unfortunately some’s lows. Last Saturday I woke up and was getting ready for the Highlander when I noticed the status of a friend of my twins. Two of their friends were killed in a wreck the night before. Horrible. But good or bad, Facebook let me know that I needed to check in right away with the Z’s to see if they’re okay.
That last 24 hours highlighted these Highs and Lows in the most awesome and awful way imaginable. Former Minnesota Twins reliever Pat Neshek’s status update showed up on my feed yesterday (he’s a Minnesota boy, went to the same High School as me although years later) that he pitched a game in Oakland, jumped on a flight and barely made it to Florida for the birth of his son, Gehrig. There were happy pictures and congratulations all over.
Today, the Neshek’s status updates were tragic. Their son passed away for no apparent reason. As a parent, it hits you in the gut. And such is life on Facebook. You get to say “OH Cool” for someone you don’t know and at times you say, “Oh my god.” You’re not involved; you’re not affected; you don’t even know these people. But you can feel a twinge of sadness for a person’s pain and send some strong thoughts.
Something that wouldn’t happen without Facebook. Strong thoughts sent to the Neshek’s…and really anyone else who just needs a hug.