tosabarbell

Yesterday we were running the last of our errands and the song ‘Creep’ by Radiohead came on the radio. Whenever I hear Radiohead, I think of my beautiful, French friend, Veronique. It was one of her favorite bands and I can’t make it through the song without shedding a few tears. She’s been gone for almost two years now and the world shines a little less brighter without her in it.

It got me thinking about so many people who are no longer with us but for the memories we have of them. Good times; touch times; funny times; sad times, so many things shared with our friends and family and wouldn’t it be nice if we could have just one more night with each of them? A quick visit where we get one more laugh, one more hug, maybe even an unsaid apology. Just one night, one visit from those we miss.

And then I started to think that as much as I may miss dear friends who no longer walk among us, THEIR children most likely miss them so much more. Veronique’s two sons; my “3rd Mom” Paula’s adult children Molly and Joe, as much as I miss her I can’t imagine their thoughts on another Christmas Day without her in the kitchen cooking for not only them, but the grandchildren she never got to meet.

I wish THEY could hear their mom’s voices just one more time (I actually have an old answering machine with a message from Paula when she was sick but before she got too bad, 11 weeks from diagnosis to death wasn’t nearly enough time to process it all.) I wish I could hear my Grandpa say “Merry Christmas Mommy” to my Grandma and see her sweet smile.

 I’m sure all of us can list those we miss. There are so many people weighing on my heart today, Michele in Hutchinson who has to celebrate her first Christmas without her son, Reno and know that the anniversary of his death is just days away; our Highland Games brother Bill in Illinois who has to attend his son’s funeral on Sunday; Veronique’s boys; my lovely friend Jenn whom I know misses HER mom so much, so many more.

So as we sit and chill and maybe even do it in separate rooms (currently the Z’s are in the backroom watching some raunchy comedian; Oz is upstairs in his room playing his new video games, and Matt is outside smoking a cigar while keep a close eye on our beautiful nearly eight pound Prime Rib roast that currently is residing in the Big Green Egg for the next few hours) I’m so incredibly thankful for the fact that all my children are in the house on Christmas for the first time in years. Of course Zandra was the last one downstairs before we could dig into our stockings and when she groggily came and sat on my lap (at 11:00 am) her twin, Zac, came and put his arm around her and her simple greeting of, “Brother” brought more tears to my eyes. I’m so thankful.

But just one more visit from some ghosts of Christmas pasts would be so nice, for so many of us.

I can’t. I just can’t. I can’t take it anymore. The whining; the attention whoring; the wasting of hours and hours of a lifetime, I just can’t. Some how in the last eight or so years, Mark Zuckerberg has talked us into the idea that we need his app. That we cannot wait in a grocery line without checking his app. That we cannot sit at a dinner or a hockey game together without checking his app.

That his app takes more priority than connecting with the real people or the real situations in front of us. I just can’t.

I don’t know what the final straw was. Perhaps the constant political rhetoric that benefits your point of view; people living their lives according to meme’s; the attention whoring selfies of girls who sit in the gyms with their cameras ready to go, lips pouting, ass sticking out, barely clothed. Ya know what sluts? I don’t care how much you lift. At all. Put some fucking clothes on and just train. I enjoy training videos of friends kicking total ass in the gym and celebrating their hard work. If that’s ALL that were on the Facebook, I’m game.

If ALL posts on the Facebook were positive, people celebrating each other; cute baby photo’s and videos of panda bears playing I’m on board. If ALL posts were like my PNW friend’s Big Daddy and his wife, Devil Ang telling each other how thankful they are for each other (plus Big Daddy’s training videos) I’m there. If ALL we could see on the Facebook were real I’m all for it.

But it’s not, or at least, the majority of it isn’t. It’s mean spirited; keyboard warriors hiding behind socially accepted cyber bullying who’s motto is “IF YOU’RE NOT FOR US, YOU’RE AGAINST US AND NOW WE’RE COMING AFTER YOU!” Hey, remember the time it wasn’t okay to go through life like that? I do. Most adults in their early 20’s don’t. We’ve done that. We’ve shown young adults that they’re too young to be adults and to live entitled and offended at every turn of life.

We’ve taught them that standards are bad. That respectful debate has no part in having an opinion. You disagree with me? Bring on the meme’s. You can say that gay marriage is good but I can’t say gay marriage is bad. My opinion makes me a homophobe. No, I don’t believe gay marriage is the ruination of America, but I DO believe that the Gay Lobby is nearly as powerful as the Pharm Lobby and has ruined good people in it’s wake, just as the Christian Right Lobby has. Newsflash people, your methods are the same. You’re just too caught up in argument to know it. Send out a meme to make your point.

I can’t.

I can’t read about people with really good lives bitch about them. I can’t read about people with a lot of talent put themselves down. I can’t read about unhealthy people not feeling well but refusing to get strong and change their food.

Enough. I’m out…peace YO!

So imagine my surprise last night when Matt said that I had a message from a friend on my FB page? Ummmm, no, I deactivated it. He says, no it’s there. Ummmmm, whut? So I guess even when you try to get out, the Facebook crew decides they don’t like it and reactivate your account.

Sit on that a bit people. You’re okay with that? I’m not okay with that. So I deactivated again, we’ll see how long that sticks.

I have a phone. I have an e-mail. My home even accepts US Mail so go ahead and send me a letter, I love letters! If people in my life think I’m unreachable because I’ve signed off the FB, then you’re in deeper than you thought. OH! I even have an Instagram and Oooooooo, the attention whoring is x1000 on the Instagram. The difference is that the negativity is held to a minimum, in fact, it’s pretty damn rare. And I like that. I can block the stupid girls who troll the internet for dates with their pictures and even the valid training systems who only use scantily clad andro babes as their marketing tools. Whatev dudes.

But the Facebook? Fuck off. I’ve let you steal hours of my life and watch you do the same to my loved ones. There are many times where I view the Facebook as “the other woman.” Think I’m exaggerating? Watch how many times a day your partners/children/co-workers faces are shoved into their phones.

So. Fucking. Done.

I like the idea of isolation, I like the idea of solitude. You can be connected and have a phone and still be lonely.

Paul Theroux