FOMO

It has been a few days since I actually deactivated my Facebook account and I already feel the itch. I even considered reactivating my Twitter account--anything to be connected. It's a weird feeling, the Fear Of Missing Out.

As a kid I wasn't terribly social. I made friends and spent time with people because I wanted to, but if my friends weren't around I wasn't usually too upset. Things hit a head when I was a teenager, but that's when everything king of explodes. In early high school I conceived of having friends as a sort of game with particular goals and it didn't really work out because not many people actually conceive of social interactions that way (they still act like it's some kind of competitive sport, but that's another problem). Despite that, I kept a couple of friends for life. Recently, we've communicated primarily through Facebook because it is easy and we get to share pictures of our kids.

Later, in college I figured out a little bit of who I was, and after I scraped off some of my intentional weirdness, I fell in with a group of oddballs and misfits and managed to eke out a role as a strange sort of spiritual leader, which is strange for an atheist. Mostly I tried to make connections between people, help folks sort through their personal delusions, and drag people into the world who had been hiding. In addition to this I had a romantic relationship that was akin to being in a small boat in a massive storm where each of us were the storm, the boat, and the waves that tended to make me intolerable at times. In the end, I kept a few very good people around and kept in touch with many others through the internet, primarily Facebook (including the ex who was the storm and waves and boat and me).

Then I took a detour to Europe and met some people who I generally just watched, voyeur-like, through Facebook, more as an anchor for my ancient wanderlust than anything. Still, the interactions I had with those folks were always a charm and would brighten my day.

Next, I wound up in law school and gathered nervous lawyers-on-the-hoof, some who became my wife and others remained good friends. In one case, I took my arrogance online and (wrongfully) bitched about a peer, was outed by a mutual friend, and made to apologize at length. We're now better internet friends, she (the victim of my mock outrage) and I. Our kids were born around the same time.

Now, I've been working for the government for a few years and lived in the NYC area for a bit and I've cobbled together a massive, crazy, diverse group of friends. I am linked to many of them through Facebook and other things, though I have to keep my co-workers cordoned off in some section in case I whine about work. I learned eventually that I just shouldn't talk about work on the internet (a lesson only partially learned, and poorly, as evidenced by this post) more due to the chance that I might be in a Senate confirmation hearing sometime in my life and I don't want something specific and untoward dragged out in front of C-Span and everyone because I had a bad day and felt like typing about it.

I went through Facebook a while ago--maybe a year--and just started "unfollowing" people who I didn't agree with or didn't care for all that much--old high school friends, some co-workers, relatives, etc. I cut my Facebook feed down to about 30 people I actually cared to hear about on a regular basis. Some of those others would comment on my stuff and I might look at their feed, but unless the sight of their name gave me a bit of a warm feeling or tickle or grin, I didn't follow them again.

After I started using Facebook again, I fell into the old social media routines and I found that I didn't really like who I was on the internet, and, for the most part, I didn't like the people I followed (which included my closest friends and relatives). So I quit. I don't want it anymore.

But I do! I watched the movie "Frank," over the weekend and there was a social media component of the script that was very important. Little tweets (fake?) would flash across the screen to inform some of the plot and the exposure of the characters was crucial to the ultimate development. In the morning, on NPR someone referenced news in a Tweet. I started following the story of game vlogger Anita Sarkeesian, and much of the information related to that was contained in Twitter. I thought, "I should reactivate my Twitter account!" And then I didn't. I needed to write something, so I wrote here. Got it out.

I have been watching people and how they interact with their media a lot lately because I've been trying to figure out if I'm right or wrong to break away from it. The modern world is increasingly defined by the internet, and people just don't communicate the old ways. More and more people are dropping land lines (I did almost 10 years ago), cable (6 or 7 years) and I can't remember the last time I actually sent a full letter through the mail. Most of my physical mailings are birthday cards or shipping mix-CDs to friends. And now, I've even had someone tell me they don't have a CD player anymore. How will we make mixtapes???

All my observations show that there's no right or wrong to the internet and Facebook and everything, but that it does bring out the really bad in some people. I don't want to be one of those, so I'm backing away from it. When I find a stream of social media that fits my personal preferences, I'll dig back in. For now, there's this blog, Google+ and Instagram. Those do what I want them to do, so I keep them.

I'm just dreading the conversation in a few years, "Wolfie, put your phone away while we eat." "But Mom does it!"

That reminds me, I need to quit LinkedIn.