It appears our Noah-diluvian weather has broken. At least temporarily.
I sent out both a raven and a dove. The dove has not returned. So, I will assume it is safe to leave the house on foot.
While I was housebound, I searched for something I had written on one of our local Facebook pages. I must not have been paying attention because I used the search option for other blogs rather than searching the page I was on.
I typed in "steve cotton," and the first option that popped up was not my Facebook page. It was "Former 'friends' of Steve Cotton."
Former friends? What have I done now?
I suppose all of us, from time to time, tick off people we know. For someone to go to all the trouble of putting together a Facebook page for the sole purpose of dissing a former 'friend' was something quite different.
I am not certain whether it was a bout of self-awareness or just garden variety narcissism, but I entertained the idea that the page was peopled by my former friends -- a group that would stretch to the horizon. After all, even though my name sounds common, it is not. I have googled myself, and, even though there are other Steve Cottons out there, we are not legion.
I will admit I felt a bit voyeurish when I clicked on the link. The group has only two members. Both are young women. Nicki and Kate.
Kate was rather ambivalent about why she was in the group. But Nicki had a grudge. I assume she founded the group. But I knew I had been absolved of this particular sin when Kate said Steve had caused her to "move house."
This was an English dispute. Or, less ambiguously, a dispute in England.
Facebook has created such an extensive network that a neighborhood dispute thousands of miles away sounds as if it might have happened here in Barra de Navidad. There are both strengths and weaknesses in those connections. We can now meet people anywhere in the world. But those meetings often simply intensify the growing tendency that everything that happens everywhere is a crisis -- when it isn't.
So, rather than spend any more time at my computer right now, I am going to head out into the day. Lunch beside the sea sounds like a good idea.
Maybe I can recruit some new members for that group.
I sent out both a raven and a dove. The dove has not returned. So, I will assume it is safe to leave the house on foot.
While I was housebound, I searched for something I had written on one of our local Facebook pages. I must not have been paying attention because I used the search option for other blogs rather than searching the page I was on.
I typed in "steve cotton," and the first option that popped up was not my Facebook page. It was "Former 'friends' of Steve Cotton."
Former friends? What have I done now?
I suppose all of us, from time to time, tick off people we know. For someone to go to all the trouble of putting together a Facebook page for the sole purpose of dissing a former 'friend' was something quite different.
I am not certain whether it was a bout of self-awareness or just garden variety narcissism, but I entertained the idea that the page was peopled by my former friends -- a group that would stretch to the horizon. After all, even though my name sounds common, it is not. I have googled myself, and, even though there are other Steve Cottons out there, we are not legion.
I will admit I felt a bit voyeurish when I clicked on the link. The group has only two members. Both are young women. Nicki and Kate.
Kate was rather ambivalent about why she was in the group. But Nicki had a grudge. I assume she founded the group. But I knew I had been absolved of this particular sin when Kate said Steve had caused her to "move house."
This was an English dispute. Or, less ambiguously, a dispute in England.
Facebook has created such an extensive network that a neighborhood dispute thousands of miles away sounds as if it might have happened here in Barra de Navidad. There are both strengths and weaknesses in those connections. We can now meet people anywhere in the world. But those meetings often simply intensify the growing tendency that everything that happens everywhere is a crisis -- when it isn't.
So, rather than spend any more time at my computer right now, I am going to head out into the day. Lunch beside the sea sounds like a good idea.
Maybe I can recruit some new members for that group.
No comments:
Post a Comment