Eight Feet Deep

The term “social media” has become a big buzz word or buzz phrase — if there is such a thing — among cer­tain cir­cles these days such as, sur­prise, media types.

We’re talk­ing about media such as Face­book or My Space or Twit­ter that have these cer­tain types of folks abuzz like a methed-out bum­ble­bee. I’ve never seen a methed-out bum­ble­bee or any insect for that mat­ter. But when you have to say some­thing, you say some­thing. “Something.”

I’ve tried all three.

Twit­ter is com­mu­ni­ca­tion in 140 char­ac­ters or less. It’s kind of like a mini-newswire for every­one and their pet anteater. It’s imme­di­ate. Politi­cians such as Repub­li­can Sen­ate mem­bers seem to like it, which is kind of odd because they like to talk so much and not say any­thing. With Twit­ter you get to talk up to 140 char­ac­ters and, if you are a politi­cian, not say anything.

My Space is kind of like dark­ness. It seems to be the pre­ferred social media for nut jobs and killers. Not every­one is crazy who uses My Space. I have an account but don’t use it. Does that make me a nut job? I don’t know, My Space doesn’t really feel like my space.

Face­book, I like. Prob­a­bly like all three, it can be put to good use depend­ing on how good you use it. Does that make sense? For instance, I posted last night about the week I had in which I sprained my ankle and wrenched my back in a fall, then as I was get­ting healed I got food poi­son­ing. Pro­jec­tile vom­it­ing and the whole shootin’ match, although I didn’t go into detail as I have a very eclec­tic group of Face­book friends.

I have mostly received mes­sages say­ing they hope I feel bet­ter. My friend Bruce, reminded me of my last severe case of food poi­son­ing when I ate a canned ham from a parental Care pack­age while on my Navy ship off New Zealand. I’ll say the feed pizen­ing wasn’t that bad this most recent round.

Weird or even bad events or occur­rences get my Face­book friends and other Face­book fam­ily mem­bers respond­ing. You can see a slice of everyone’s life who you, prac­ti­cally, know or have known in one incar­na­tion or the other at some time or the other.

It all seems pretty good, right now at least, for me. This is a time in my life I need Face­book. I need my Face. Maybe that will be the “it” phrase like “I Want My MTV” was in the 80s. Was it the 80s.

We will see how Face­book pro­gresses, or not. We?  Why do I write that? We, I mean, all of us.