White Noise

This may be a bold statement, but I think one of the best things I ever did, one of the best moves I ever made, was to buy an air purifier for my bedroom. Not because I think it's doing anything to the actual air, mind you. If anything, I feel like I'm sneezing more and waking up sounding like Harvey Fierstein, but I love it because it totally and completely blocks out the sounds of the other humans in my building. You know the humans, with their annoying walking and talking and breathing. Now instead I have the sweet, sweet rumble of a noisy motor as it works overtime trying to turn the mud thick NYC polluted air into something fit for human lungs.

You see, if I hadn't actually purchased this purifier, I may have had to do the unthinkable: I may have actually had to interact with my neighbor and tell him that I don't appreciate his nightly ritual which, to my ears, sounds like Irish step dancing in Doc Martens to hip hop music while running all of the water in the apartment and watching Lord of the Rings dubbed into Chinese. And no one wants that. I'd rather resent him and plot ways to drive him out of his apartment with my own retaliatory strike. Perhaps a little Barry Manilow blasting at 4 a.m. would do the trick? But drowning him out is even better because, this way, he doesn't exist.

Technology saves the day. Again.

I was reading an article this week about how, globally, more and more people are living on their own than ever before. One of the reasons cited is that we live in such a technologically connected world that people need a break. They need a room of their own to which to retreat to block out the external stimuli and recharge. They need to really be alone.

Sure, we're bombarded with stimuli, but for what purpose. Are we really connecting to anyone or anything? Or are things just being thrown at us? If so, I think we've got a lot of incomplete passes.

I feel more disconnected than ever from those who are really close to me. It may be months or even years that I see friends of mine who actually live in the same city. And I'm not talking about acquaintances, but people I consider good friends. Sometimes I wonder if my definitions are screwed up -- how can people be good friends and not see each other for such long periods of time? Maybe I didn't get the memo that we weren't friends anymore. Or maybe I was the one who was supposed to send the memo and I forgot to do it. But I don't think so. I think that all of these ways we have to communicate trick us into thinking that they're all perfectly fine substitutes for human interaction.

And when we do see each other, I feel like there's this weird assessment that needs to be done -- have we been following each other on Facebook or Twitter, how much do we need to catch each other up? It's a weird feeling when I haven't seen someone in years and yet they know that I drink a green tea every day from Starbucks. So, okay, what do you say? If everything's been said and read, what's left to say? Awkward.

I did it to my mother this morning who was like, "Oh I have great news!!" and she started to tell me that my niece had won a competition. I didn't even let her finish, I said, "I know, I saw it on Facebook!" Would it have killed me to let her finish her sentence? I wasn't any less excited about it, but it sure stole her thunder in telling me.

I find it even more awkward when good friends don't seem to track each other on social media. I had a conversation with a friend last week who is very active on Facebook but didn't know I had an accident. I was pretty dumbfounded because I feel like I bore everyone to tears with the story and everyone knows, even people who probably shouldn't know. I asked, "But wait, aren't you on Facebook?" "Yes, every day." "So, don't you read my posts? Do you not read mine in particular or do you not read any at all?" It was fascinating to me.

It's like social media intimacy is a whole new level of intimacy -- or lack thereof. Is it wrong to be offended if your friends don't track you on Facebook? Or is it right to assume that they'd want to?

Since I'm an active user, I tend to assume that everyone I know is on Facebook regularly and following their friends, when I'm learning that's not the case. Some people essentially never log in at all, they only joined because EVERYONE else was doing it. Some people only play games, doing whatever it is that happens over in Farmville or Frontierville or whatever the kids are calling it. I even know people who are really active on Facebook, posting like crazy, but don't read anyone else's info. Now that's really curious to me. Don't they want to see what's happening with other people's lives? I can understand not being active at all, but if you think people should care about you, shouldn't you care about them? Or is that not what it's about?

I guess I can only speak for myself: Facebook gives me a way to connect with those I care about. I do want to hear what's going on in your lives and what's important to you, even if, honestly, I may not really remember you because we met once twenty years ago. But I also think I have a healthy balance -- if one of my closest friends posts that they won the lottery, I am going to react in a different way than if someone I haven't seen in twenty years does, mainly to remind him or her about our pact about splitting said lottery winnings should one of us ever win the lottery.

A good friend has a theory that Facebook and Twitter desensitize us. Because in your feed you might see posts of all kinds, from "My dad died" to "This cheeseburger is delicious" from all kinds of people, from your best friend to someone you felt forced to accept as a friend that you never liked anyway. Or, as a real life example, from my feed the other day I learned from my cousin that my uncle is in hospice care preparing to pass away the same time I learned a distant acquaintance had put $500 on the Giants to win the Super Bowl. They're all in there with the same level of importance, and it's up to us to sort through it all. But maybe because there's so much of it, we've lost the ability to do that. Our brains see them equally and you just move on to the next one without processing it, without connecting.

But is that acceptable? Is this the new normal? Has it, have WE, all just become white noise?

I've had people say to me when I see them in person, "I saw about your accident on Facebook." Which reminds me of that old question -- if a tree falls in the woods and no one is around, does it make a sound? If we see these posts, and don't reach out to connect as friends and humans, either on or off Facebook, what's the point?

I've had big arguments with people over Blackberry Messenger. And I've heard devastating news via text message. Not ideal ways to handle either situation, but we're in a new day.

I share on social media because I have something to say, but yeah, because I hope someone out there cares to read it. For me, the sheer act of posting is enough a lot of times, but I do admit, sometimes if I post something and it doesn't even get one crappy little "like," I wonder, "What did I do? What's wrong with this post?" then it turns into "Seriously, not one of you people likes this post???"

Because I do want to connect with others and be a part of their lives, and hope that at least some people want to be a part of mine.

But I still don't want to be a part of my neighbor's. Although, since I have never actually seen him, for all I know, he could be one of YOU.

We just might never know.