Where Everybody Knows Your Name

"Sometimes you want to go
Where everybody knows your name,
and they're always glad you came.
You wanna be where you can see, our troubles are all the same
You wanna be where everybody knows Your name."
- Cheers Lyrics, by Gary Portnoy and Judy Hart Angelo

I am addicted to Facebook.

This rather recent obsession started when several friends insisted I join, and even went so far as to set up my profile for me, including a hastily snapped digital photo. I was not at all interested and did not see the appeal, but I went along with them (because, well, I didn’t have a good reason not to).

And now I can’t stop.

That’s not completely true. I could stop whenever I wanted. But I don’t want to.

I’m in the infatuation stage. I can’t wait to log on each day and see who “friended” me, or who wrote on my “wall”. I stay up too late at night interacting, and then drag myself to work in the morning vowing to avoid logging in later that night (which I invariably do). Weekends supply many free hours to waste perusing profiles, playing Scramble and Sudoku, and posting answers to ridiculous questions (such as my porno name, which is the name of your first pet and the street you grew up on….yes, I am “Prissy Grandville”).

Like any relationship, I’m sure the infatuation will wear off, and then I will discover if this is something real or not. But I’m starting to suspect that it is. And of course, I want to understand why.

It’s partly the attention. It’s fun to think that the littlest mundane things in your life are actually of interest to someone. For some people, I think this is the whole appeal. They spend their time creating profiles that are seemingly advertisements for how full and happy their lives are, and how important they are to the world. Those profiles practically scream with insecurity. And the emptiness and sadness are right there, between the lines.

It’s partly the discovery. I’ve been friended by three people that I have had no contact with since I was a pre-teen. Others that I had lost track of over the years have also found me (or vice versa). It has been deeply rewarding catching up with these friends, many of whom I have wondered about for years. I’ve learned about everything from secret crushes to life-altering experiences. Many of my female friends are sneakily searching for their ex-boyfriends – not to friend them, but to see how their lives turned out (and sometimes hoping they are fat, bald, and unhappy).

But I think the most compelling feature of Facebook is the sense of community it gives you. I honestly feel, when I log on, that I am walking into a room where all my friends like to hang out. And I can learn with a quick mouse click who is already in the room, who was recently there, and what they have all been up to since my last check in.

It’s like having your own personal version of the TV show Cheers. You get to be where everybody knows your name.

It is hard to find that sense of place - that feeling of home - in society today. Many of us work far from where we live, spend most of our time away from home, and have friends and family scattered across the country. We live in small families in big houses. We interact with our gadgets more than each other. We miss the sense of connection that we had when our world was smaller and we could walk down the block to see our best friend every day after school.

No, I don’t think Facebook is the answer to world peace. And it is certainly not the ultimate solution to the loneliness and seclusion that seem to be seeping into our culture. But maybe it is a step in the right direction.

And if nothing else, you might get a good chuckle over the profile of the jerk who dumped you in high school.