So many friends, so little time

The boxes stood side by side on my computer screen as I sipped my morning coffee. My mouse hovered between them.

Confirm Ignore

Clicking the first box would mean my Facebook friend count would rise to 240, a paltry number by Facebook standards considering that others in my Facebook network had thousands of “friends” in their accounts. Still, it was far more than I had acquired in my real life.

I had seven friends in common with Linda, the requestee. All were comedians like myself. Linda was a part time comedian, according to her profile. Still, I had no idea who she was.

I continued staring at the boxes, pondering Linda’s fate. I asked myself, what would be the harm in friending her? I still don’t know what happens when a friend request gets denied on Facebook. For all I know, the lonely jilted person gets an email or text message stating, “Greg doesn’t want to be your friend. Here’s his cell phone number and home address in case you want to discuss it further. Oh, and here’s the name of an attorney in case you want to sue Greg for pain, suffering and mental anguish.”

I was willing to take that chance. I clicked “ignore.” Linda would not become part of my Facebook contingent and my friend count thus remains at 239.

I hope her feelings aren’t hurt. Maybe Linda was somebody I actually knew yet just couldn’t place. Her profile photo didn’t exactly help matters as it featured a very grainy image of a woman kissing a man. At least I think it was a man. The photo was really grainy.

Yet I am sensing a mood shift in the Facebook community. I keep reading that, if Facebook were a country, it would be the world’s fourth largest. I’m not sure how residents of Indonesia, currently the world’s fourth largest country, feel about this but chances are they are discussing it on their Facebook walls.

But the Facebook population explosion appears to have slowed. Like me, people are no longer randomly clicking “confirm” to every Facebook friend request that appears onscreen. Those that do are starting to regret it, as evidenced by some of the recent wall posts I’ve read:

Is it just me or does everyone get too many event invites? Time to delete some names.

To all my FB friends: I friended you because I care about you and your thoughts, NOT Farmville or Mafia or other third party apps

The previous post was written by a friend who is a member of the following Facebook “groups”:

50,000 Against Healthcare Bill in the next 72 Hours

I Bet We Can Find 1,000,000+ people who Disapprove of the Health Care Bill

304,059,724 Against Obama’s Healthcare Takeover

Repeal Obamacare

My friend is nothing if not optimistic.

When I entered Northwestern University in 1980, I attended fraterntity Rush Week, a five day drinking binge where seemingly EVERYBODY in EVERY HOUSE I entered wanted to be my friend. Thirty seconds after opening a door adorned with Greek letters, members wearing shirts with those same letters approached me from all sides and offered me red plastic cups filled to the rim with keg beer or a sweet-tasting punch, made with a combination of grain alcohol and moonshine whiskey, and bearing the name of the frat somewhere in the title.

Here Greg, try some Fiji Fire.
Careful. This is Delta Devil
Want a Sigma Slam?

With drink in hand, they let me steer the conversation any direction I pleased. Even if I chose to talk about the chemical composition of cement, they appeared interested.

Eventually I chose Phi Kappa Sigma, known around campus as “The Skull House” and creators of “Skull Juice,” a drink so toxic, it could have passed as paint thinner. Becoming a Phi Kap was a decision I never regretted even though I soon realized that not all the Phi Kap upperclassmen found me as interesting as they did during Rush Week. Factions formed, members occasionally allied over pertinent fraternity issues, (like whether the women of Delta Gamma would be more impressed if we served Strawberry Daiquiris or Pina Coladas at the mixer. Turns out the answer was, “neither”) and every member, myself included, had at least one “what did I see in these guys and what did they see in me?” moment.

Facebook, I’m realizing, is nothing more than the world’s largest fraternity. The only difference is that you can remove people at any time, something we couldn’t do at Phi Kappa Sigma unless their dues checks continually bounced.

I have yet to defriend any Facebook friends although I am starting to profile them, much the same way that federal agencies profile suspected terrorists. So far I have identified several:

The Meteorologist: This person apparently joined Facebook solely so he could provide weather updates to the entire Facebook community. My meteorological friend has posted the following in the last week alone:

The sun is out and the snow is melting
Yesterday temps in the 60s. Today, 2 inches of snow on the ground
Loving this brief warm spell we are having
Loving the warm weather. Melt snow…MELT

The Godfather - Someone who spends waaaaay too much time playing the aforementioned Mafia Wars, an exceptionally popular Facebook game that I refuse to become part of because I don’t want the following posts to clutter up other friends’ walls:

___ is working hard to finish the Loot the Police Impound Lot job and is in need of a whole lot of Armored Trucks from their Mafia!

_____ needs help to take on local motorcycle thugs in Mafia Wars.

The Crop Duster – The same person except that their life revolves around Farmville, another third party app that has something to do with cute little animals and, unlike Mafia Wars is void of violence. I have yet to receive a post stating that 500 cows were slaughtered in Farmville.

The Joiner - That friend who encourages you to hug your son (even if you are childless or, like me, produced only daughters), applaud the accomplishments of someone with Down Syndrome, forward a political message about global warming or change your profile picture to your favorite Mad Men character - just for a day. These people apparently never heard the “If-your-friend-jumped-off-a-bridge-would-you-do-it too?” speech.

Top Chef – The friend who shares about-to-be-consumed meals with everybody – usually with photos. Two of my friends have, in the past week, prepared and/or eaten buttermilk marinated chicken, salmon ber blanc with capers and blackened fish over coastal salsa and Belgian endive. While these recipes all sound delicious, reading about and viewing the finished product simply wants to make me get up and head to the refrigerator.

The Exercise Freak – This friend wouldn’t be caught dead eating buttermilk marinated chicken because he or she is too busy posting exercise updates. To all those people who tell me about their recently completed 20-mile run through the hills of some town with an Indian name, remember that running enthusiast Jim Fixx bragged about his hobby in a best selling book - and died after jogging.

If you’re reading this and find yourself in one of these categories, don’t worry. I don’t plan to defriend anybody as I truly enjoy Facebook’s ability to help me reconnect with old friends and meet new ones. Heck, I’ve probably been guilty of many “who cares” posts myself. So, Farmville and Mafia Wars participants aside, keep sending me weather updates, menu schedules, exercise regimens and political rants.

Just not every hour.

The Obama-berry

I voted for President Obama even though I’m convinced he can’t solve all the crises currently facing this country. The current wrangling over the stimulus package is proof even though Obama has done a fine job of selling it, appearing everywhere but The View to bolster support.

Still, Obama has already proved he is a tough negotiator. For just hours after he took his hand off the Bible (twice), word came down that our new president had indeed triumphed in a very controversial debate.

He gets to keep his Blackberry.

Just in case the nation’s comedians are still searching for ways to poke fun at the nation’s first African-American president, look no more. The idea of Obama texting Michelle during boring Cabinet meetings, or consulting his calendar to see that, yes, today he is scheduled to meet with the Iranian president, is hilarious simply from a visual standpoint. Wait until things settle down in Washington and comedians actually start writing about the guy.

I was excited when I heard Obama was hooked on this device because it proved I had something in common with the leader of the free world. I had nothing in common with his predecessor. I never owned a baseball team, never lived on a ranch, never wore cowboy boots, never bombed a foreign country and never doubled the size of our national debt. Okay, there have been a few times that I didn’t pay my credit card balance in full. Does that count?

Obama admits to being a “crackberry,” meaning he is addicted to the annoying little device. I share this trait with him. I can’t do without my Blackberry for the following reasons:

1) I’m self employed

2) I travel extensively

3) I have no staff or secretary to handle my schedule for me

4) I feel comfortable knowing that I can get in touch with anybody at any time and vice versa. Yes, that means I might get a call at a restaurant or while coaching a Little League game but at least I know that a potential customer can always contact me.

Wait a minute. Now that I look at this list, it seems the only thing that Obama and I have in common is number two. As I write this, the news has broken that Obama has scheduled the first of what will be many overseas trips. Granted, it’s to Canada but that seems like a safe place to start. The last time I checked, we hadn’t deployed any troops to Vancouver or taken over a ski resort.

Seriously, why does Obama need a Blackberry? Unlike me, he’s not self-employed. He works for the U.S. Government, which currently is laying off employees at a slower pace than Boeing. Right now it seems like an okay place to work.

Furthermore, his job comes with a staff that is fairly efficient, even if they occasionally fail to conduct background checks on cabinet appointees for minor indiscretions such as FAILURE TO PAY INCOME TAX. But every time I see Obama, he’s got about five people attached to his hip. Six, if you count Vice President Biden. That staff makes sure our president is always in touch.

I looked at my Blackberry’s home screen and wondered which applications Obama might use. Text messaging? Doubtful. As I said, Obama’s whereabouts are known ALL THE TIME. Secretary of State Clinton will never have to frantically text “Where R U?” to the president.

Likewise, that makes his calendar function useless. When you’re the president, you don’t need to be reminded, via a vibration on your hip, that the president of Afghanistan is landing in two hours, the gun control bill is scheduled for debate and you have a parent-teacher conference. In fact, during the middle of a recent Obama speech in Fort Myers, he was handed a note saying the stimulus bill cleared the Senate. A note! Real Blackberry uses don’t use notes. They get IM’s and interrupt whatever they are doing to read them.

What about contacts? Somehow, I think the home, work and cell number for House Speaker Nancy Pelosi should be SOMEWHERE in the White House. Contacting her should not require Obama whipping out his Blackberry hours before a crucial vote and scrolling to the “P’s.”

Email? The White House has made a big deal out of proclaiming that Obama’s Blackberry will be, in the words of his advisors, “super duper secure” and will be limited to his “inner circle.” In today’s hack happy environment, we know that “inner circle” means Joe Biden, Hillary Clinton, Defense Secretary Robert Gates and Jimmy, an eight year old from Poughkeepsie, NY, who will soon penetrate Obama’s Blackberry simply to get extra credit in school. That’s going to happen and when it does, Obama’s email app will disappear faster than Osama bin Laden.

So what does that leave him with? Video? Voice recording? This is a man who is trailed by cameras and microphones 24 hours a day. If he wants a video clip, all he has to do is ask CNN for a dub. I believe the network’s policy is 50 bucks and a two-week wait.

Then I came to the final icon: GAMES. Now it made sense. The president of the United States must have some kick ass games on his Blackberry for it’s the only reason he truly needs it. My Blackberry came with something called Brickbreaker in which you try to bounce a little ball off a brick wall and destroy it. Rumor has it President Bush referred to Brickbreaker as a “weapon of mass destruction.”

I’m not a serious game player so I have resisted the urge to download other games for the Blackberry such as bowling, blackjack, hockey and god knows what else. But I suspect Obama has a few games on his device. In fact I suspect Obama, in addition to being the first African-American president, is also the first “gamer president.” I base this theory on three words:

Sasha and Malia.

Obama’s daughters are 10 and 7. My daughters are 11 and 6. It’s safe to assume the First Children play the same games that are so popular in the Schwem house. It’s also safe to assume that when the Obamas moved into their new White House digs, those games came with them. I highly doubt the girls left Guitar Hero in Chicago. It’s probably hooked up to a flat screen in the Lincoln Bedroom, much to the dismay of the White House curator.

Uh, Mr. President, our sixteenth president slept here. Might I suggest another room for the Wii?

My kids received Guitar Hero for Christmas and, although I’m not a gamer, I have used it as a stress reliever during working hours. It’s one of the advantages of working from home. Obama works from home as well which means all of Sasha and Malia’s high tech toys are at his disposal. Who knows? Guitar Hero may be just out the door and down the hall from the Oval Office. Obama played basketball on election day so I can easily see him strapping on a plastic guitar and pounding out licks to AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell” just before discussing the auto bailout. Hopefully his children aren’t standing behind him saying, “Daddy, can I have a turn?”

Obama has made no secret of portraying himself as a hip president. The Blackberry is just one example although, if Obama were really hip, he’d have the iPhone. Still, a president who embraces technology like Obama is both cool and disconcerting. I’m fine with Obama keeping his Blackberry as long as it’s not a distraction. Right now we need a president who is focused at all times. George Bush was portrayed as aloof and he never carried a Blackberry. Obama’s passion for the device means he will have to resist the temptation to play games during Cabinet debates, subtly check football scores or worst of all, answer emails with the following subject line:

“Kim Jong II wants to be your friend on Facebook.”