Friends in the Age of Facebook

What would the sitcom "Friends" have looked like if it took place in the digital world of Facebook? At first I imagine status updates posted on the apartment doors. Instead of conversations around the kitchen table, in the coffee house and in the living rooms, the characters message one another asynchonously or, by chance, log into the site at the same time (cue pop-up sounds).

It was time for me to take a Facebook fast.

At first, I couldn't verbalize exactly why I knew it was time. Since then, I've been asked to articulate my reasons. Here are a few, in no particular order.

1. A healthy mind is uncluttered. With the insertion of ads and the advent of the timeline, Facebook had begun to feel VERY cluttered. I felt overwhelmed by information and emotion inside the site. How was God's "still small voice" going to EVER get through all that clutter?

2. I want to be sure that I'm a good friend in the real world. Even though I can post encouraging words to people's walls, or post inpiring quotes on my own wall, I felt that my commitment to blessing others in the real-world had dwindled. Certainly, encouraging others in the physical world takes more time, money and effort. But what if we all started to lean toward "Facebook charity" instead of helping our neighbors in a real, physical way?

3. I had become uncomfortable with "too much information." Through Facebook, I was learning about parties, divorces, debts, hook-ups, and other sensitive topics that I probably shouldn't have seen. I could see judgement creeping into my heart, setting down its ugly, bitter roots.

4. This in non-violent resistance to the assumption that communicating on Facebook IS a relationship. People who used to celebrate holidays or visit with us now post a greeting on Facebook instead. They watch our activites and view photos of the children growing up. But they no longer stop in or call. Perhaps, they assume, they are still "keeping in touch" through the site?

Here's to hanging out, building deep relationships, writing long letters, and dropping in. I hope that these are things my children (and their FRIENDS) will still be able to experience in the future.

Digital Download Aggragators (or Digital Aggravation)

My oldest son's band just recorded its first CD. Two of the bandmates are now working on sound mixing and "cleaning up" the files from their recording sessions. Another bandmate is working on T-shirt design and production. They've printed CD jackets and they've produced several CDs for sale ($7! And, if you hurry, you can own one of only a few autographed editions).

Last night I asked the boy how we could celebrate this accomplishment. Because I'm headed to a record release party for another band, with a concert and a "meet and greet" session, it had occurred to me that we hadn't officially recognized the "birth" of his first CD.

"Money would be nice," he replied. He would also like our help to research and evaluate digital download aggragators. These are, in short, companies that work between small bands and Itunes, to negotiate and provide support for digital downloads...for a fee.

This is definitely not something I have much experience with. In fact, I've recently rejected Itunes and digital media libraries all together.

I'm no longer a fan of E-books. I'm done with music downloads. What was once digital enchantment has become digital aggravation.

I don't want to fight pop-ups, malware, buffering, and advertisements all day long. I don't want to see the oversexualized and sometimes violent images that creep up so often, even on reputable news sites.

Instead, I love to listen to entire albums start to finish. It's pleasant to lend them to friends, or to pass them on to charity imagining that someone else, a complete stranger, might enjoy the same experience.

A live concert? Even better! I'm really looking forward to tonight's City Harbor release party.

The Hazy Shade of Winter

I was born in the winter, and, as far back as I can remember, it snows on my birthday. This year there is a doosie of a winter storm in the forecast for Wednesday.

I'm celebrating 44 as if I were four...with paper and beads in shades of pink and purple. Filled cupcakes. Stuffed animals.

I realized, this year, that I'm not sure where I was living when I celebrated my actualfourth birthday.




The Hazy Shade of Winter
Songwriter: SIMON, PAUL
(as performed by The Bangles)


Time,
Time,
Time, see what's become of me
While I looked around for my possibilities.

I was so hard to please.
Look around,
Leaves are brown,
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter.

Hear the Salvation Army band.
Down by the riverside's
Bound to be a better ride
Than what you've got planned.

Carry your gun in your hand.
Look around.
Leaves are brown.
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter.

Hang on to your hopes, my friend.
That's an easy thing to say,
But if your hopes should pass away
Simply pretend that you can build them again.
Look around,
The grass is high,
The fields are ripe,
It's the springtime of my life.

Seasons change with the scenery;
Weaving time in a tapestry.
Won't you stop and remember me

Look around,
Leaves are brown,
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter.
Look around,
Leaves are brown,
There's a patch of snow on the ground.

Trade for Balls

An issue I struggle with at work has to do with forms. I encourage, ask, beg, people to utilize the order forms I've created, but they seem to disregard my requests.

Today I received one such reservation that had, hand-written across the bottom, the words "Trade for Balls." It did not include a ticket face order form that would tell me what what tag lines to use, what dates to print, etc. Without a ticket face order form, I might generally print whatever information I find on the reservation. Still, does this person really want me to print, and mail out, 100 tickets that say "trade for balls?" ("Valid any one operating day 2014?").

This verbage jumps out at me thaks to an incident at school yesterday. While lecturing on "direct object pronouns" to my high school class, I casually picked up one student's spiral-bound notebook to use in my illustration. I emphatically proclamed, "give me the book, give it to ME." I pretended to hand the notebook over to another student in the front of the room, repeating, "give Alex the book, give IT to HER."

I noticed that the young man I'd "borrowed" the book from seemed to be shrinking in his chair. His face was red. Now waking up to the fact that something was going on, I saw that several students were giggling.

Turning the notebook over I read, written in extra-large teenage "grafitti" letters, the words "I Love Balls." I'd been lecturing in front of 25 students, waving a notebook written with the words, "I Love Balls."

Fantastic.

It's a good thing I'm the mother of 4 boys because I could almost contain my embarassment and my own laughter.

I returned the notebook to the student(at least I had his attention, this student-athlete who seems, most of the time, to be half asleep.)

So now I'm using my teacher skills at work, in hopes of some cooperation. I've returned the "no order form" reservation to the fellow employee who placed the order, eager to see corrections on Monday morning.

The Cubs - Lost Inside The Polar Vortex

On Monday I used one of only five yearly vacation days.

School closing texts and calls began to pour in around 5:30 a.m. I watch the news' closings list for four separate school districts: the two that our children attend and the two where I teach. Sometimes I watch to see if the school district near my job closes. This may or may not mean that work has decided to tell employees to stay home for safety reasons.

Not so on Monday, even though it was one of several days this week with wind chills in the range of -20 to -50 degrees! For this reason I had to use my own "time."

The two oldest boys and I shoveled the driveway by hand as it had filled in with blowing snow. It took until 9 a.m. We carried water back to the animals and then I forced myself to sit down and study Accounting.

A still, small voice whispered that I should spend this "quality time" with the children. We did enjoy playing games and baking.

The rest of the week, however, has been difficult. It was important that the high schoolers made it to town to take their Regents, despite closings. Instead of using up all of my vacation time, I battled treacherous driving conditions and the deep freeze to get to and from work. Mr. WestBerryDad did the same. His presence at work, much more than mine, is critical to projects there.

Some schools opened while others closed. Rehearsals were canceled and rescheduled. Busses arrived and didn't.

Dentist appointments, National Lutheran School Week, choir rehearsals, play dates...all of the elements of our busy lives were potentially postponed or re-routed this week.

I worried. I worried about teens driving to youth group, driving to their friend's houses, driving to fetch me from work. I worried about matching gloves and ripped out, worn out boots. Were the boys' noses, fingers and toes protected from the elements? Was the sheep dog, living in the barn, OK? Would everyone remember to bring the old dog and the cat inside?

Still, we haven't suffered the way Atlanta did, with people sleeping in mall stores and vehicles abandoned alongside the highways. We don't have to buy propane to heat our home, the price of which continues to climb steadily based on a shortened supply.

Today I'm driving a stranger's Chevy SUV. She owns horses and I am overwhelmed by the smell of pine shavings that are spilled in the back section. My own vehicle sits at a recording studio several hours down The Thruway.

We're supposed to see a short break from the deep freeze. A much needed break.

A University of Substance

This past weekend J, almost age 18, attended a football recruiting weekend at a "prestigious" (read: expensive) university.

It's a college that seems to be very good at "talking the talk" but not "walking the walk." Even the football weekend came up short with regards to planning and the delivery of a quality experience.


A mother notices these things.

1. The recruits were placed with current football players for the night. There were no formal activities planned during the evening hours so the guys were free to go find something to do on campus. Our son's group "found" that sitting around in dorms, by groups of ten or so, was all there was to do. Most of the buildings on campus were closed/locked. What about a visiting speaker? A concert? A movie, perhaps?

Since there were no sleeping arrangents made for him, my son was given a dorm lobby couch to sleep on. For better or worse, he helped "steal" this couch from a lounge (it had been bolted down), and haul it to a locked room.

2. The student newspaper featured a weekly sex column. This week's advice to students was "how to have a threesome - two guys with one girl." Nice.

The writing in the newpaper wasn't worth the cost of the paper it was printed on. The stories throughout were shallow and uninteresting, eg."Student Gives Up Sex With His Iphone." This article appeared next to another, lamenting the $60,000 per year price tag to attend this university.

3. We were "treated" to a breakfast of powdered eggs, heated "frozen" french toast, and some juices in plastic bottles. Even for a banquet room full of football players, no fresh milk was offered. The large hall, inside the university's "exclusive club" had no artwork on the walls. It was dull and dirty.

4. When I observe students walking around this campus they look scared. Lifeless. Unhealthy even. Their conversations "feature" topics like chicken wings, uhms, sleeping, uhms, and parties. They dress in sweatpants and boots, with hats pulled over dirty, uncombed hair.

I've seen a better place, a university of tradition and substance. The student newspaper there featured stories about world events, on-campus speakers, and awards won by faculty members. The halls (and the bathrooms) there were clean. Students appeared friendly and engaged.

I suppose it's easy to judge. Here's hoping our student does NOT choose the expensive "low calorie" education.

The College Search/Where Am I Looking?

This weekend our oldest son, a high school senior, will go for an overnight at a college that is recruiting him to play football. The same college is home to a prestigious music school and the type of physics research facility that interests him.

He doesn't want to play football. Still, we have asked him to please, please explore the option, in case there could be a financial benefit. We certainly can't afford the yearly tuition at this school and we don't want to see our son strapped with outrageous student loans.

The entire seach process feels stressful. There aren't enough hours in the day to properly research scholarships, fill out forms and applications, or visit schools across the state. Yet, I've come to realize, over the last few days, that I've been looking in the wrong direction for the answer to our "where will we find the resources?!" question.

I heard this on Ron Hutchcraft's daily radio message...

There are three ways you can look when you're facing an overwhelming situation. First, you can look out at the need. That's what the disciples did. It's a huge crowd; a huge need. Secondly, you can look down at your resources. In John 6 that's what the disciples did. Andrew said, "Here's a boy with five small (notice small) barley loaves and two small fish, but how far will they go among so many?" "Hey, our resources are no match for this need!" Maybe that's how you feel right now. You just don't have the money, the wisdom, the strength, the help, the answers. Well, in both cases you're going to be paralyzed or panicky.

There's a third way to look though, and that's what Jesus did. It says, "And looking up to heaven He gave thanks for the loaves." Jesus chose to look in the Lord's direction, not out at the need, not down at the resources, but where the resources are unlimited. The Bible says in Philippians 4:19 , "God will supply all your need according to His glorious riches in Christ Jesus." So Jesus thanked God for what He did have, though it was nowhere near enough. And not enough was miraculously multiplied into more than enough.

Do you know that's exactly what happens when somebody puts their life into Jesus' hands? Your life could be so much more than you ever imagined. Jesus said, "I've come that you may have life and have it to the full." And we do as much as we can do with our lives, until one day we say, "Jesus, You who died on the cross to pay for my sin, You who walked out of your grave under your own power, You who will be returning one day to wrap up human history, it's time I took this life that I have thwarted and put it in the hands of the one who was meant to be controlling it all."