Harry Lime's Facebook Status

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I enjoy Facebook, but I do it in my own way. For one thing, I try to not be political on my page. Sure, I like posts by my like minded friends, but I'm not that interested—most of the time—in shoving my views on anyone when it comes to politics. Movies and music? Yes. What do you mean you don't know who Harry Nilsson is? Let me send you this link to his amazingness on YouTube. But there are two things in particular that I've seen noticing on the Book of Face that has been driving me crazy.

There's the not new to anyone phenomenon of people having no clue how in the hell to use the English language. I don't expect everyone to write with the skill of a poet, but for heaven's sake, some people just need to learn about the wonders of a comma. Yes, Virginia, there are posts on Facebook that look like this: “me and smithy went down to grunky holler and got us a nice boat and a fished for several hours and it was good and we had a great time and I love Hootie and The Blowfish.” It makes my skin crawl, and that's not even due to publicly admitting you like Hootie and The Blowfish.

I think the best way to combat this would be with a series of PSAs on television. I think I'll make some. I'll use that sad Sarah McLachlan music. You know the one. The one that when it comes on either makes me change the channel, or hold my cat afterwards while I cry like a baby. We'll play that music, and show artist renderings of punctuation marks looking sad. Then I'll come on in voiceover saying “Every time you abuse the English language on Facebook, an angel looses its wings”.

But there is a new oddity that I've seen happening on Facebook. One that makes no sense to me, and drives me just as batty as people making angels loose their wings. It was a picture of someone I went to High School with, what is known as a selfie. What's a selfie you ask? It's a picture yourself that you take alone. I've done it before, but my selfies usually feature bacon or nutella in a prominent guest staring role.

This selfie was a picture of a lady, and a very attractive picture too. The caption though, is what disturbed me. The caption said “I'm 27, beauty fades, it's all downhill from here”. People immediately chimed in. Rightfully saying how ridiculous those thoughts are. Yet the lady in question refuted it all, responding with “You don't understand, I'm 27.” Well, OK. You're 27. There's people on this planet who are 37, 38, 47, 57, 67, 77, and guess what? They look perfectly fine. I have no problem with being 28, or getting older. Age is just a number, and if you think you're old. You are old. I don't feel old, and I swear I think I look a little younger than some I graduated with. Those who think and “feel” old shall be that way forever.

The same goes for when thin people complain about being fat. Someone who is so thin and petite, a light wind from the North could topple them posted the following: “I thought I heard someone clapping for me as I ran, it was just my thighs rubbing together”. Really? Really sister!? Someone has you thinking you're fat? I have some weight on me, I admit it. While I am working to get rid of some, I do have to keep a little of it. Why? I need it for my role as the front man for the Tri-Cities best Barry White cover band: Love's Conjunction Junction We'll Show You Our Function (now booking for weddings!).

I don't understand what it is about our modern culture that makes perfectly normal looking people take to the social medias and complain about all their self conceived faults. I practice the personal philosophy of not caring what anyone thinks about me, as long as I'm content with the person I am. Which I am. People may think I'm weird, but sometimes I think that's the best compliment. Why? Because it means I'm not a dull person obsessed with reality TV. Frankly, sometimes I feel like us weirdos are the normal ones, and it's everyone else who is crazy.

Moral of the story? If you like who you are, like who you are. Don't worry about who you're not. If you feel old at 27, you're gonna feel old. Beauty doesn't fade, unless you believe it does, then it will. If you want to believe in all that, then you're welcome to grow into a life of being a boring old person. I refuse to do that. Because I see no wrong in still waking up on a Saturday morning, watching cartoons, and eating cereal out of a Tony the Tiger bowl. You may think that's immature, but that opinion doesn't matter to me. Enjoy who you are.

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