My de-friender apologized. The full story is long and complicated, but the ultimate outcome is that my conclusions were off the mark and the whole sequence of events should not to be taken personally. I considered deleting the blog out of respect for the de-friender since she had the nerve to tackle the issue head on, but I decided to keep it because I still think de-friending (and Facebook itself for that matter) is an interesting social study, and because it still seems worth thinking about how to handle relationship dynamics -- no matter what your age, gender, or technology. The blog is also a good reminder on how there is always another side to a story.
So as I go into 2009, I am humbled, optimistic, hopefully a little wiser, and definitely out of shape.
(136 words)
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Monday, December 29, 2008
Antisocial Networking
I've been de-friended on Facebook! Rejected. Kicked out of an e-sorority. Should I be distressed? Ignore it? Stop feeling like a pre-teen whose friend is mad at her? What's the etiquette here?
Nobody warned me of this side of social networking -- the antisocial part. Until now, Facebooking has been all fun, restorative, entertaining. I've connected up with people I haven't known in years. I see what my West Coast colleagues do when they're not working. I know what my sisters are doing on a nearly daily basis. Sure, these e-relationships aren't deep, but they are meaningful in an amusingly diverting and lightweight kind of way. Not to mention relatively effortless. I can't imagine actually de-friending someone once I made the decision to engage them. I might choose to see less of a person on Facebook, but a de-friend sure seems like a harsh, end-of-the-line measure. On the other hand, it's a quick and easy way to let someone know how you really feel...
Interestingly, I was chatting with the de-friender just a couple weeks ago at a cocktail party. She was lamenting about how all the "housewives in Williston are now on Facebook" and how she doesn't want to know everyone's every move. Little did I know that she was talking ABOUT me TO me. (Since I'm not a housewife, I didn't recognize myself in her resentment.) I could go on about why she was even talking to me if she wanted to de-friend me, but there's too much background to cover there.
So at the end of the day, as I consider the dynamics of adult relationships -- and now e-relationships -- I realize that sometimes they're really not all that much more mature than the issues my 10-year-old daughter reports about her social circles. My advice to her:
(1) address the issue head on;
(2) back off the relationship for awhile and see how it evolves; or
(3) completely move on to more authentic relationships.
Seems like that same guidance appropriately applies to my own life and times -- and that my de-friend has clearly taken path #3.
In a twisted way, I'm grateful she made the split so painless. No ugly confrontation. No second guessing. Just the click of a button that took me a few weeks to even realize, and now I clearly know where she stands. More proof of the new e-world order.
(400 words)
Nobody warned me of this side of social networking -- the antisocial part. Until now, Facebooking has been all fun, restorative, entertaining. I've connected up with people I haven't known in years. I see what my West Coast colleagues do when they're not working. I know what my sisters are doing on a nearly daily basis. Sure, these e-relationships aren't deep, but they are meaningful in an amusingly diverting and lightweight kind of way. Not to mention relatively effortless. I can't imagine actually de-friending someone once I made the decision to engage them. I might choose to see less of a person on Facebook, but a de-friend sure seems like a harsh, end-of-the-line measure. On the other hand, it's a quick and easy way to let someone know how you really feel...
Interestingly, I was chatting with the de-friender just a couple weeks ago at a cocktail party. She was lamenting about how all the "housewives in Williston are now on Facebook" and how she doesn't want to know everyone's every move. Little did I know that she was talking ABOUT me TO me. (Since I'm not a housewife, I didn't recognize myself in her resentment.) I could go on about why she was even talking to me if she wanted to de-friend me, but there's too much background to cover there.
So at the end of the day, as I consider the dynamics of adult relationships -- and now e-relationships -- I realize that sometimes they're really not all that much more mature than the issues my 10-year-old daughter reports about her social circles. My advice to her:
(1) address the issue head on;
(2) back off the relationship for awhile and see how it evolves; or
(3) completely move on to more authentic relationships.
Seems like that same guidance appropriately applies to my own life and times -- and that my de-friend has clearly taken path #3.
In a twisted way, I'm grateful she made the split so painless. No ugly confrontation. No second guessing. Just the click of a button that took me a few weeks to even realize, and now I clearly know where she stands. More proof of the new e-world order.
(400 words)
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Wire Me Up, Scotty
It's three days after Christmas 2008, and I've concluded -- after years of fighting it -- that we are a wired family. As soon as we finished opening gifts on Christmas morning, each kid pulled out their Nintendo DSs to play their new games -- Petz Vet for Mia, Club Penguin for Max, and Sonic Chronicles for Will. (This information is telling...) So as Tom and I were relaxing in our PJs, with the fireplace stoked and scones baking in the oven, we realized the joyous sounds of our Christmas morning were the beeps, ditties, and tones and of three Nintendo games. Sad? Not necessarily so.
I've done everything I can to redirect my kids toward creative pursuits, board games, great books, sporting activities, the great outdoors. To some avail. They humor me. They'll go outside for 15 minutes and ride something around, then come back inside because they're "cold". They'll play an occasional game of Backgammon or Monopoly. Mia’s learning to sew. They make their beds everyday and unload the dishwasher. But I know they're really just buying time to get to the "next level".
Tom and I have also set screen time limits -- an hour a day, DSs only in the car, no video games after dinner. But we're weak, and there are days when the kids play all they want -- even sometimes after dinner.
Honestly, my kids don't watch much TV. My daughter might turn on a few Disney sitcoms here and there, but we allow her that downtime. Heck, we watch "The Office" and "30 Rock" every Thursday. But if given a choice between a show or a game, my boys would choose a game every time.
So is this all bad? Other parents often lead me to believe so, with their renouncing of video gaming -- and attitudes laced with righteousness. And the American Pediatric Society says that we should restrict screen time to 1-2 hours a day of "quality programming". (I’m pretty sure Mario Kart doesn’t qualify as “quality programming”.) The Society suggests that screen time can interfere with activities such as being physically active, reading, homework, playing with friends, and spending time with family. These things I agree with, so we do what I consider a decent job trying to balance out game time with real-life time -- piano lessons, taekwondo, tennis, baseball, reading, and so on.
But consider this: Will was completely motivated to learn to read so he could understand his Gameboy games. Mia knows more about animals than most people I know from playing Zoo Tycoon. My kids know how to type. Both of my boys shock me with things they can compute in their heads. They can find answers to questions using the internet. We love spending a Saturday night at the Wii bowling alley. And this morning, after breakfast, we all went to the basement for a rousing Guitar Hero World Tour gig. Some quality family time to be sure.
We have our low moments though: Last night during a small party at our place, Max walked up to Tom, who was playing Guitar Hero, tugged on his shirt and said, "Dad, can I have a turn 'cause I have to go to bed soon." Poor little fella, needing to beg his dad for a turn on bass at 10:00 at night. On the way to restaurants, we also make sure everyone has their DS with them. It simply makes for a more enjoyable dinner out.
So my ultimate conclusion is that it's just the world we live in now. People are plugged in and charged up. Today's kids are growing up in a Global Super Charged Information Age, and I personally hope mine have all the tools they need to succeed. So if that means a little cyber bowling or baseball, hand over the controller.
(638 words)
I've done everything I can to redirect my kids toward creative pursuits, board games, great books, sporting activities, the great outdoors. To some avail. They humor me. They'll go outside for 15 minutes and ride something around, then come back inside because they're "cold". They'll play an occasional game of Backgammon or Monopoly. Mia’s learning to sew. They make their beds everyday and unload the dishwasher. But I know they're really just buying time to get to the "next level".
Tom and I have also set screen time limits -- an hour a day, DSs only in the car, no video games after dinner. But we're weak, and there are days when the kids play all they want -- even sometimes after dinner.
Honestly, my kids don't watch much TV. My daughter might turn on a few Disney sitcoms here and there, but we allow her that downtime. Heck, we watch "The Office" and "30 Rock" every Thursday. But if given a choice between a show or a game, my boys would choose a game every time.
So is this all bad? Other parents often lead me to believe so, with their renouncing of video gaming -- and attitudes laced with righteousness. And the American Pediatric Society says that we should restrict screen time to 1-2 hours a day of "quality programming". (I’m pretty sure Mario Kart doesn’t qualify as “quality programming”.) The Society suggests that screen time can interfere with activities such as being physically active, reading, homework, playing with friends, and spending time with family. These things I agree with, so we do what I consider a decent job trying to balance out game time with real-life time -- piano lessons, taekwondo, tennis, baseball, reading, and so on.
But consider this: Will was completely motivated to learn to read so he could understand his Gameboy games. Mia knows more about animals than most people I know from playing Zoo Tycoon. My kids know how to type. Both of my boys shock me with things they can compute in their heads. They can find answers to questions using the internet. We love spending a Saturday night at the Wii bowling alley. And this morning, after breakfast, we all went to the basement for a rousing Guitar Hero World Tour gig. Some quality family time to be sure.
We have our low moments though: Last night during a small party at our place, Max walked up to Tom, who was playing Guitar Hero, tugged on his shirt and said, "Dad, can I have a turn 'cause I have to go to bed soon." Poor little fella, needing to beg his dad for a turn on bass at 10:00 at night. On the way to restaurants, we also make sure everyone has their DS with them. It simply makes for a more enjoyable dinner out.
So my ultimate conclusion is that it's just the world we live in now. People are plugged in and charged up. Today's kids are growing up in a Global Super Charged Information Age, and I personally hope mine have all the tools they need to succeed. So if that means a little cyber bowling or baseball, hand over the controller.
(638 words)
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