Dad says some funny things sometimes.
"Facebook is a lot like sobriety. You see how utterly boring your ‘friends’ really are."
Dad’s friends are actually pretty cool. I’ve met most of them. So I think he’s referring to the ‘six degree’ people—those who have ‘friended’ him because of mutual acquaintances, but seem to have nothing in common. When I take dad out for walks, nobody really says “hello” to us. Not even our neighbors, many of whom are ‘friends’ with dad on Facebook. I think that’s really odd.
I had a Facebook page for a while—people could ‘poke’ me. And they did. But why? So I cancelled it. Ultimately, Vizslas don’t need any algorithm to make friends. Our approach is wholly analog:
I see you. I ‘like’ you by wagging my tail. I ‘friend’ you with kisses.
Hence, I am surprised at how much time humans dedicate to interacting with each other on their computers and online while barely noticing each other in the real world. But I am really shocked at how much control they are willing to hand over to Facebook to help them ‘connect’ with other people. Dad often looks at his friend requests and says “Who are you?”
Dad’s mom, my grandma, is on Facebook too. But she has a different last name, lives in a different city and doesn’t really have much in common with her son, at least according to Facebook. So, her posts never appear on Dad’s wall. Facebook has decided that she is not relevant to him.
And here is the lesson:
It’s ok. That just means dad has to call her more often.