I, the one who once championed his friends to join, who before that extolled the dangers of social media’s lifeless grasp, who has flip-flopped on issues like these and many others numerous times, finally quit Facebook this weekend.
I didn’t just “deactivate” my account, either. That’s the wobbly way out. Once you deactivate your account, you can log back in at any time – years later, even – and pick up right where you left off. Sneaky, tricky, dastardly Facebook. I knew I couldn’t withstand the temptation of easy re-entry. I found that the unassuming, plain Facebook login screen would beckon me throughout the day, pleading me to type in that all-too-familiar information, only to watch my hundreds of quasi-web-friends and their lives come spilling back into my daily life.
So, I deleted it completely. Poof. Yikes.
The reaction from my ex-fellow-Facebookers has been quite interesting, to say the least. Here are just a few of the colorful responses I’ve gotten.
“You’re shittin’ me.”
“Shut up. That’s stupid. You’ll be back.”
“Oh right. Give it a week. You’ll be taggin’ photos again before you know it.”
“What? Why? Why would you even do that?”
“Seriously? Wow. What’s that even like?”
In landslide numbers, people have been generally incredulous, befuddled, even angry that I’d leave the Facebook family. It appears that my attempts to unplug from the social media madness comes off like snobbery, which people like to point out in me whenever they see it. I don’t blame them, really. I think it must be painfully apparent.
THE FIRST THREE DAYS
The first bit was rough. Really rough. I kept going to the login screen and staring, daring Facebook to log in for me. No more News Feed. No more status updates. No more mindless pop culture quizzes forced upon me. No more groups to join. No more knowing what people I don’t care to visit, call, or write are doing at every waking moment. You might think I’m being sarcastic, but I’d gotten used to knowing all these little details, like stale, tasteless bread crumbs from Life’s table. Facebook took a thousand new and useless bits of info and, all day, every day, arranged them in such a way so that I could seamlessly and habitually suckle at the teat of knowledge. Oh, what a happy, drunk baby I was.
But now, to be suddenly cut off from the mother’s milk, to suddenly find myself relegated to email, my cell phone, Twitter, the U.S. Postal Service, couriers, skywriters, and conversation? I kid you not, I trembled.
I’d see my buddies checking their Facebook accounts on their cell phones, and from months of habit, whip out mine, ready to sift through the endless sands of human existence. But there was no Facebook. I’d deleted the application from my phone. I was left with phone numbers and text messages.
THE FEW DAYS AFTER THAT
After the low hum faded from the interior of my skull, I started realizing that I suddenly had extra time. It had become so easy, in moments of respite or quiet, to simply stare at the latest evolution of my News Feed and absorb the quiet march of everyday Facebook life. Links to articles. Blog posts. Incredibly similar group-shot bar photos from the night before. Quasi-pornographic pregnancy progress pictures. Smarmy engagement photos. The latest funniest-ever YouTube videos.
Sigh.
There was, all of a sudden, a gigantic void. Where would I find a replacement? Twitter is just too cryptic and actual conversation, let’s not kid ourselves, takes too much time and effort. I wanted candy. Web candy.
But something very strange happened, folks. I began to think outside of my habits.
Finding myself sans-Facebook, I went out on my deck and quietly read a chapter of The Unbearable Lightness of Being. It was a particularly good chapter, filled with seething regret and the hope of a soul’s upheaval. Milan Kundera really outdid himself this time.
A week earlier and I wouldn’t have peeled myself away from my computer to go read that book. And if for some reason I had, I’d have scampered back inside to post a relevant status update, Amazon.com link, or quippy Twitter tweet that referenced the fact that I – check me out, people - am a reader. And I read smart books.
But no, I just read the chapter and then – thought about dinner. What a concept.
I know what you’re thinking. “Charlie, you’re just telling us what you did that day in article form, just like you might on a Facebook status message. Isn’t that a bit ironic?” And without taking a deeper look, I’d say yes. But it’s not the same, and I’ll tell you why.
There’s a particular something that happens when you push past the initial, easy beginnings of a thing. Something real. Something organic and tangible.
Take a romantic relationship, for example. Sure, the first days and weeks are heavenly, with flowery words and longing looks, and no shortage of things to say and do. It’s intense. It’s magic. It seems special at first, but really it’s not all that uncommon. It happens all the time. It’s ridiculously easy to be excited in the beginning. The relationships that make people actually stop and smile are the kind that last far after the first butterflies have flown far, far away. It’s the elderly couple strolling through the city park, wrinkly hand in wrinkly hand. They won. They did it. They know something True that you only know if you’ve gone the distance. If you’ve lived past the status update.
Any book, painting, project, relationship, idea, event, trip – anything in the world that you’d place a high value on – must outlast the initial fervor to make its true value known. I read a chapter in a good book and enjoyed it. No one needed to know. The problem was, I felt like someone needed to know. It didn’t seem right to have a simple, quiet experience and not spread it around a little. Nothing makes me feel more valid than posting the details of my life on the internet for others to see and admire. My knee-jerk reaction was to take my pleasant afternoon and go viral with it. And for what? Did the world desperately need to know that I had a pleasant afternoon with a good book?
No. It certainly did not. So please, forget that I told you about that. It’s really none of your business anyway, and trust me – I know for a fact that you don’t really care to hear about it.
WHAT NEXT?
I’m excited to see how my habits change. I know I can’t remove every bit of technology from my life, nor would I want to try. I enjoy the fact that my cell phone contains all the phone numbers I need, and is readily available to catalog and store the new ones that will come along the way. I love that I can send an email and don’t have to lick a stamp to do it. Text messaging can be useful in loud, crowded situations. There are times and places, to be sure. And Facebook has its place, too. Many people use it sanely and sporadically, like a treat. To all you well-managed Facebookers, this post is not for you.
I, on the other hand, had begun to look at it like a family member. An extension of my body. A necessity. But in reality, for me, it had become a malignant tumor, teaching me ever-so-slowly that making the effort to go out and make my own life wasn’t nearly as interesting as staying put and falsely absorbing everyone else’s.
You may be reading this and thinking, “Geez, dude, you had a problem.” And you’d be right. I did. And now I have one less. If you’re reading this and find yourself relating to my words, I will say this only once:
Get out while you still can. Life is a lot better in complete, untagged, uncategorized chunks. Leaving Facebook feels, right now as I sit here having passed through the withdrawal phase, absolutely incredible. I smile as I think of all the things I’m currently missing out on. And guess what?
I got my life back.
April 29th, 2009 at 11:20 pm
You’ll be just fine Mr. Pratt w/o Facebook. I don’t even miss it and it’s been @ least 2 months since I’ve ditched it. Welcome to freedom to pursue whatever you like without being tagged.
April 29th, 2009 at 11:40 pm
perspectives on facebook like yours are fascinating to me. i can only imagine the reasons i don’t share your opinions on it, but nevertheless, a well phrased explanation of “the other side.” while i don’t share the sentiments on facebook, i have those sentiments for other habits that i’m trying to break. the crux of the problem seems to be a false obligation (to yourself, to others, etc.) that these “substances” create. that’s how i see it, anyway…
“…forget that I told you about that. It’s really none of your business anyway…”
what were we talking about again?
rach’s last blog post..mama’s got a new pair of shoes
April 30th, 2009 at 6:49 am
Wow! Here’s the thing…I’m old Charlie Pratt, 47, what I’ve found in FB is this: reconnection with friends from my distant past. It’s been pretty amazing and delightful really. I’d never have this if I hadn’t been on FB…but, having said that I am concerned with something…
Last year I read 56 books (not many for some people, but lots for me) and since Jan 09, I’ve gotten through only 4 (and 1/2!) I suspect my online connections are to blame. So this does give me pause. I’m rolling it around in my head, trying to find some balance.
Kudos on using your delete button, I’ll look forward to seeing what else you do with your time :)
Robin
All Things Heart and Home
Robin Rane’ ~ All Things Heart and Home’s last blog post..Living My Legacy~8~Leaving A Legacy of Prayer
April 30th, 2009 at 7:28 am
“A broad margin of leisure is as beautiful in a man’s life as in a book. Haste makes waste, no less in life than in housekeeping. Keep the time, observe the hours of the universe, not of the cars.”-HDT :)
April 30th, 2009 at 8:50 am
@Shelia – Thanks again for the inspiration, lady. More time to write, eh?
@rach – I hear you. Facebook is not the disease, it’s just one of the symptoms. Like I said, there are many sane, well-managed Facebookers. I wasn’t one of them.
@Robin – Balance is key. I tend to gravitate towards the far end of the spectrum on most issues, so for me, cold turkey was the ticket. I’m glad you’ve found a way to reconnect with old friends. Now get back to readin’!
@sevenseven77 – Making margins for ourselves – a huge concept. Great quote.
April 30th, 2009 at 9:19 am
Sa-weet! I am so posting this as my status message on fb… like “Taps” for a fallen soldier. We will miss you, Charlie. But we know you are in a better cyber-place.
the mills commentary’s last blog post..Government Looks Online To Spread Word On Flu
April 30th, 2009 at 9:32 am
I’ll tell ya, Charlie, that’s just plain silly. I never go on my Facebook account, but my blog posts are automatically updated on my account showing an excerpt from the post. Every time I update my blog, my Facebook account is updated too. It is a great marketing tool and it doesn’t cost anything. That’s the best part. So, even if I don’t visit it (which is never), it is updated all the time and I get visitors from my Facebook account regularly. That said, you really should re-activate your account, link it to your blog like your Feeds “Charlie Pratt Speedy Home Delivery Service” and then let it sit out there in cyberspace.
Also, I would think that Facebook would be a great way for you to connect with other writers and publishing houses. I know that I am friends with at least one publishing company and I get emails when they are having writing competitions and other opportunities. I would not know this had it not been for Facebook.
Choose your friends on Facebook wisely and it can be a great marketing tool, and a great advertising tool too. Think of it this way, every time you write on someone’s wall, leave your url under your signature. When your friend’s friend’s visit that wall, they’ll be curious and come to “Charlie Writes” just to see what it is that you “write.” duh.
So, you’ve obviously had a brain fart. Now that the gas has passed, re-activate your account. Get back all your friends (if they still want you – ha ha) and connect your Facebook account to your blog posts for daily updating. You’ll be glad you did.
Susan
Over at “Raisin Toast”
http://raisintoast.typepad.com
April 30th, 2009 at 2:30 pm
@Mr. Mills – Thank you sir. Your support is much appreciated.
@Susan – Oh, how I enjoyed this comment. And you’re right, I got a lot of visits to my site from Facebook. I guess I just believe that if what I’m doing is truly worthwhile, I won’t need Facebook to find success. I’m willing to lose those easy connections on Facebook to spend more time writing and less time marketing. But like I said, my decision isn’t for everybody, so I wish you all the best Facebook-luck in the world! I love your blog! Go get ‘em!
April 30th, 2009 at 4:09 pm
:-) I am happy for you, Charlie. I understand the joy of finding some freedom from the chains of the FB/myspace world.
Frankly, my FB hiatus did me a lot of good. I had sooo much work to do during those weeks, that it was nice not feeling obligated to log on. Before, I was on FB, every day, at least 2x’s a day when possible- w/ my busy life, that’s obsessed! Now, while I do still enjoy FB in moderation, it just doesn’t seem so darn urgent anymore. It’s just a fun little thing to catch up on some out-of-state family, my highschool buds, and some theatre friends that as a mommy, I’m no longer able to run around with. It’s all good fun, and it no longer controls me.
All this to say, I may have given you a bit a grief, but good for you! However, I hope that your “Technological Partial-Abolitionism” will not come to include dumping your “Charlie Writes” entries! Now, THAT would just be mean. :-)
April 30th, 2009 at 4:34 pm
You are so right Charlie! I only joined FB to keep in touch with my 7 nieces/nephews in college now. What I found is that there is so much mindless chatter and inanity going on that it makes my head explode. I would much rather read a blog like this than to try to decipher the language of tweets or read that someone I vaguely know is getting their dog spayed and little Emily is heartbroken about it or that there is a only one hour until the climactic episode of LOST (and of course, the obiligatory review of said episode immediately after watching it). I don’t think that I have a problem with it, and I will keep it, but I don’t check it all too much, and I certainly don’t get caught up in pillow fights and virtual kidnaps to Peru and sending ‘gifts’ that I wouldn’t be able to return in cyberspace.
You are so spot on all the time Charlie and I can’t wait to see where you take us next…..and now that you have all that time on your hands my guess is there is more time to write insightful comments like this or work on that screenplay?!
Enjoy the day!
Erin
Erin Prais-Hintz’s last blog post..Meet My New Friend: Andy
April 30th, 2009 at 6:09 pm
I still enjoy limited use of facebook. I find myself not putting too much out there but do enjoy catching up with people I’ve lost contact with over the years. But I’ve noticed a slowing down by many on FB. And I had one experience that has stayed with me. I ran into an acquaintance of mine and between the two of us, we had very little to SAY to each other. Everything pertinent was right there on FB. It was kind of awkward.
I do think it will be interesting to see if or when there is more backlash…
You always make me think Charlie :)
Vicky’s last blog post..Part Three: My Own Little Miracle
May 7th, 2009 at 7:41 am
Quasi pornographic? I hope you had some other pregnant facebook contacts because I KNOW you weren’t talking about me and my butter ball belly bared for all to see. ;)
February 11th, 2010 at 2:48 am
Thank you Mr. Pratt. Just the article I needed to read as I’m gearing to quit Facebook. You took the words right out of my mouth, and rearranged them so beautifully, I’ve quit my pretensions of being a journalist! It dawned on me this week that Facebook has been managing my life exactly as you mentioned and I want to get it back. Again, many thanks. I am printing your article to help me cope during my weak moments. All the best, Yma.
February 11th, 2010 at 4:57 pm
Thanks for this Charlie. It made me come to many realizations, and I found myself relating to just about everything in here. I think it’s time for me to step back and see what life without Facebook is like cause I honestly can’t remember. Although, I’m sure it’s great.