Tuesday, April 14, 2009


I have at least one person I went to high school with, 36 years ago, as a "friend" on Facebook. She's a Republican, who once linked to a "thank George Bush" item, and lately had a silly objection to the name the Obamas picked for their puppy, Bo (as in Diddley, Michelle's father's nickname).

This "friend" from the dark (I should say dim) days of my past, at a school I did not particularly feel a part of, posts more than any of my other "friends". It was starting to get to me, and I found myself thinking about what she might think of my posts.

She was not a close friend in high school. We were not even in the same circles, and in a class with 42 students there were not that many circles. So why would I care what she thinks? I was slipping back into my insecure teenage self.

So I did the only sensible thing. I hid her posts. I don't care if she sees what I post. I don't want to be so rude as to "unfriend" her just yet. She contacted me and I consented to connect. But I don't have to be reminded of her every time I open Facebook.

There are a few others who I hide. I don't care to read about drunken parties, I don't live that kind of life. I don't care to read posts peppered with foul language. Those words are for shock value, keep them dry until you really need them.

That is all.