I’m not an expert with social networking, but I have a Facebook account to connect with people I’m closest to, and I have a blog to connect with folks on the web. To my husband, a social network means a company picnic and his face on a billboard… I never expected there’d come a day when he’d be schooled.
When he returned from fishing, horns tooting and “Whoopie!” shouting, Marie and my husband flaunted their prizes and took pictures with their phones.
“Baby Beth, hold this up so I can take your picture,” Marie told her daughter.
“I don’t wanna. It’s icky,” Baby Beth said.
“Oh, common. I’ll help you,” said my husband.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
After taking several “good ones” with their smart phones, my husband and daughter compared their catches.
“I’m posting my shots on Facebook,” Marie declared, deftly tapping her phone. Within seconds, the picture of Baby Beth’s grimace holding an icky fish was shared with the world.
Marie hopped to the computer and logged in. “Mom, come look.”
“Oh, Lordy!” On the nineteen inch monitor flashed a picture of my granddaughter struggling with a dead 4lb. bass. At this very moment, our entire family could see them on Facebook. Ah…the wonders of the modern world.
“These are great. How can I print these out?” my husband asked, looking over my shoulder. My dear husband, bless his heart, does not know how to use the features on his smart phone. Marie, bless her heart, did not want to teach him how people pass around pictures nowadays.
“You need a Facebook account, Dad. I’ll set one up, if you want…”
He sighed, shook his head, and left. It was not his thing.
Marie and I seized the moment to introduce him to social media and all its glorious splendor. While he was outside cleaning the fish, Marie and I zip-lined him to the twenty-first century. We opened a Facebook account for him, uploaded his pictures (a profile, too!), and sent “friend” requests.
After dinner, Marie braved a Facebook demonstration on his smart phone. She had synced his accounts and showed him how to upload pictures and access his email.
During her lesson, he held his breath and concentrated. Yes! He’s taking it in, I thought. Within minutes, his eyes glazed. He blinked repeatedly. Oh, no. Marie had overloaded his microchips. The program is not responding. Do we wait or end program now? We waited.
It worked! We squealed as he accessed Facebook and patted him on the back as he opened his picture files. I can’t say he was delighted, but he grinned at our enthusiasm.
The next day, he slammed his phone on the table. “I hate Facebook.”
“My phone’s been vibrating all day. People keep leaving messages wanting to be “friends” on Facebook. I’m too busy for that crap.”
I took his phone and tapped off the notifications. Poor guy. He’ll still catch fish, but he won’t be using the networks of the twenty-first century.
Have a great weekend. And thanks for stopping by!