Thanks To Everyone Who Helped Chase The Young People Off of Facebook
What the hell is “Meta” anyway?
I got up this morning, smoothed my eye-bags and peered blearily at my Facebook feed like I always do. Yep, ads for Cialis and hair replacement tonic, large print posts from friends who are angry about something that happened two years ago, and an article about one of my favourite bands from the eighties whose drummer just died . Why do the drummers always go first? I’ll throw a sad face emoji on the obituary as usual.
That’s MY Facebook. Facebook for older adults, as we like to call ourselves.
There was a time when I was younger and so was the platform, a time when I still had a remote interest in learning about new trends or fashions or music.
Those days are gone.
Now I just want to sit quietly in my Docs and popped collar, drinking herbal tea and trying to remember the name of the bar I used to go to that they tore down to build a huge ugly condo. If it comes back to me I'll post about it; we sure had some good times down there, didn’t we?
It’s important that I share every thought passing through my head, so my generational cohort can read it and express wistful approval, making the algorithm sit up and take notice. “More of THIS, please!” it says, rushing to curate a set of stories about how everything is much worse than it used to be.
We all have to keep engaging, or the kids might come back, and nobody wants that.
Not that I have anything against the young folk, although I’ll thank ’em to keep off my lawn. But I remember what it was like before the Millenials and Gen Y’s and Z’s fled to Instagram and TikTok and other places that I haven’t heard of and don’t want to learn about. Everybody dancing and taking pictures of their lunch, talking about their pronouns and the collapse of civilization, things that are probably interesting if you’re twenty but let’s face it don’t have much to do with me.
That’s why I want to say thanks to all of you guys and gals who keep talking about the olden days, and who keep clicking on ads for the funeral homes and Dementia Dates matchup services that bulk out our news feeds. Without all of us working together, we might not be able to have interminable go-nowhere comment threads about road maps and pay phones.
Facebook has aged with us. It’s like that old friend who’s weird and depressing but can always be relied on to share your interests, no matter how ancient, irrelevant, or misremembered. And that’s worth a lot.
So thanks to everyone who helped make Facebook a place of our own. And to all of you born at the front end of the millennial generation, we’ll see you back here real soon!
