Sandscript on Facebook
'Are you on Facebook?' A common question; in days gone by people would have asked 'Are you on the telephone?' More recently the question in social and business contexts will have been 'Are you on the Internet?' Now it is usually assumed you are and the query will be 'What's your e-mail address?' If addressing the elderly, tact is required, some would be insulted at the suggestion that they may not be keeping up with the times, whilst others will retort angrily that they have no intention of getting a computer.
When I was in the Brownies I had to resit my Golden Hand badge - I had failed the telephone test. All that was required was to make a phone call, in my case at the home of a stranger ( a respectable middle aged woman I hasten to add; now days she would have had to go through numerous checks first ) as my parents did not possess a telephone, which was the reason why I was nervous.
My mother, tied up with two younger children, once sent me and my sensible older friend to a phone box with a message for my father at the office and detailed instructions for the telephone box. We failed to master buttons A and B and the message was never sent. You will gather that our friends and neighbours did not possess a phone either, perhaps it was considered too expensive or unnecessary.
Now we can skype across the world with several people and several generations squeezing onto the screen.
But Facebook is different from e-mailing and skyping, it is not personal and most of us have a love hate relationship. Are we there to see people's holiday pix, show off how many friends we have, to have a laugh or check if family members are still alive? I logged in recently to be confronted with a large, square, brown fury creature with a large shark mouth. In various shots he was depicted with a cigarette in his mouth, a can of beer in his fury mitt and a piza on his plate. This was my introduction to a new family member from Japan, Domo Kun Plush, who now shares a rented room with a human family member. You never know who you are going to meet on Facebook.
When I was in the Brownies I had to resit my Golden Hand badge - I had failed the telephone test. All that was required was to make a phone call, in my case at the home of a stranger ( a respectable middle aged woman I hasten to add; now days she would have had to go through numerous checks first ) as my parents did not possess a telephone, which was the reason why I was nervous.
My mother, tied up with two younger children, once sent me and my sensible older friend to a phone box with a message for my father at the office and detailed instructions for the telephone box. We failed to master buttons A and B and the message was never sent. You will gather that our friends and neighbours did not possess a phone either, perhaps it was considered too expensive or unnecessary.
Now we can skype across the world with several people and several generations squeezing onto the screen.
But Facebook is different from e-mailing and skyping, it is not personal and most of us have a love hate relationship. Are we there to see people's holiday pix, show off how many friends we have, to have a laugh or check if family members are still alive? I logged in recently to be confronted with a large, square, brown fury creature with a large shark mouth. In various shots he was depicted with a cigarette in his mouth, a can of beer in his fury mitt and a piza on his plate. This was my introduction to a new family member from Japan, Domo Kun Plush, who now shares a rented room with a human family member. You never know who you are going to meet on Facebook.
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Sandscript
I like to write first drafts with pen and paper; at home, in busy cafes, in the garden, at our beach hut... even sitting in a sea front car park waiting for the rain to stop I get my note book out. We
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