What’s a Facebook, Anyway?

Rose and Dawn had taken the bus downtown and were dining at a second story window seat in one of their favorite restaurants, watching the Seattle workers rushing by.

“I wonder where they’re all rushing to,” Dawn said plaintively. “Sometimes I wish I had somewhere to rush to.”

“Are you kidding? There are the days we rushed around to get to. Remember? Let me remind you of the heat of that school kitchen and the number of burns we got on our hands and arms when we were assigned to the baking detail. No ma’am, I don’t ever want to rush to work again.”

“I guess you’re right,” sighed Dawn. “Sometimes I think I feel useless.”

Rose cocked her head at that announcement. “Again, I say, are you kidding? You take care of your great-grandchildren sometimes, you volunteer at the food bank three days a week and you maintain a friendship with a slightly cranky best friend. All of these things take a lot of work and

time.”

Both of the girls smiled at this.

Friendship did indeed take a lot of time, but the investment was so worth it. Just then, the waiter brought their lunch of angel hair pasta pomodorro. He shredded the Romano cheese, smiled and left them to their repast.

Rose leaned down to sniff her food.

“ROSE! Don’t smell your food! Don’t you know that’s considered rude?”

“What? Rude to smell the deliciosity of the meal? To revel in the aroma of the artistry from the kitchen? I can’t believe that would be rude,” Rose countered.

“Well, when you put it that way…” and Dawn took a big sniff. “Deeelicious!”

After lunch they decided to walk briskly to the bus. The walk started out robustly but as they came to the uphill part of their trek they slowed down and eventually took a seat at a bus stop, not the right one for them, just for a rest.

Rose looked at all of the people sitting near them and at the people walking past. In each case the stranger was looking at some device; sometimes small like the size of a pack of cigarettes, sometimes larger, like a folded newspaper. She knew about cell phones. Both she and Dawnie had them for safety and convenience. But they didn’t type into theirs.

She turned to Dawn with a puzzled expression and asked, “What in the world are all of these people doing? They’re all typing and walking and reading at the same time. That can’t be safe. But WHAT could be so important that it needs to be seen right now?”

Dawn yawned to take in extra oxygen after their uphill hike and said knowingly, “It’s probably the Facebook thing.”

“And how do you know about it?” asked Rose.

“You know, it’s where everyone has ‘friends’ and they ‘friend’ you and then you type to each other and find out what’s what and who’s who,” Dawn explained.

Rose looked at her with concern. “And isn’t what you just described a…uh, well, a conversation?”

“Uhm, yes I guess so, it’s just the way the kids these days do it. I guess they don’t like to look directly at each other when they’re communicating,” Dawn said a little defensively.

“Ha! You’re so funny, Dawnie. You’re making this stuff up, aren’t you?” Rose bounced back. “The next thing you’re going to tell me is that they ask each other out on dates using the Facebook.”

“Yes, I believe they do,” Dawn posed. “They meet each other online and then talk on the

Facebook and then text pictures of themselves and…well, I’m not sure what happens after that.”

Rose was laughing loudly and drawing the attention of some of their fellow bench-sitters.

“Honey, I just can’t believe this. How will the species survive with all of this technology and no direct contact? I mean really…there are things that one just can’t accomplish

with a computer. Ahem. Like holding hands, or staring into each other’s eyes or, well…you know kissing and stuff.”

The young woman sitting next to Rose was quietly giggling. Rose whipped her head around and looked at her. “And what’s that giggling about, young lady?” Rose quipped.

“Oh nothing. It’s just that I’ve had this same conversation with my granny. And she’s far away and I feel very much at home sitting here listening to your sweet voices.”

The girls melted. They smiled and patted her shoulder. Rose spoke first. “If I

had the Facebook, I’d be your friend.”

Diana Couture with her little furry friend