“Send me a cow.”  

It was 2010 and Jack and I were two hours into our regular evening phone call. Neither of us was proud of the addiction that accompanied the addiction we felt for each other - a trivial Facebook game called FarmVille, which Wiki tells me was then the most popular game in the world.

I scoffed at people who were early adopters of social media, pooh-poohing the whole Facebook and MySpace (remember that?) phenomenon as either a fad or something for people with no imagination. Why would I want to track down folks from 40 years ago? Seeing photos of their grandkids and peony bushes hardly seemed friendship. Truth was, I knew I’d become addicted and wanted to preserve my time for more meaningful pursuits. 

The brief flirtation with FB more than a decade ago was under an alias - Alice Frederick pronounced “Aleechay” of course. I didn’t want to commit to FB enough to put my name on it. 

Around the same time, someone extolled the virtues of LinkedIn as a business development tool so with reluctance, I joined. The thin edge of the wedge. I obsessively amassed connections, determined to get to the magic threshold, 500, beyond which LinkedIn stops publicly counting. Everyone knows then you’ve arrived. I posted and liked and commented and sent connection requests. Oh I got to my 500+, but never really figured out the point of LinkedIn. 

The social media wedge thrust itself firmly into my daily life when about four years ago, a colleague let me know about “thoughts of dog” a Twitter account providing deep(ish) commentary on life from a pooch’s perspective. I quickly became a full-blown Twitter convert. A twit.  For awhile, with it on my telephone I did nothing but share. I mean who really does give a damn about my dinner or my peonies? This wasn’t supposed to happen. I created a Twitter barrier by deleting the app from my phone but it’s still on my MacBook and I’m still reading and posting many times a day. When you’re in, you’re in. And I’m way in.

And it’s not just Twitter - I’m back on FB with a new alias.* I rejoined because writing courses use private FB groups to post work for peer review. Or my alter-ego posts her work and I enjoy the feedback.  As an addict though, I can’t just stay in the one lane. Oh no, my nom de plume has strayed into other chapters of the great book called Face. 

And lemme tell you, anonymity has its perks. 

We have an active FB group in my community.  During the height of the pandemic, I walked obsessively and one day was nearly run down by a small blue Honda, not once, but twice, in broad daylight. I was pissed off and took down her plate number. When I got home I posted her plate, knowing I was safely hiding behind my pseudonym. 

On another occasion, I ventured into my local coffee shop. I’d been following a little FB saga of its proprietor going off on a patron who called him out for being maskless. He posted a long apology, explaining he’d had an off day. Things died down after a few days of people weighing in on both sides of the mask debate. Weeks later, I figured it was safe to treat myself to a latte only to discover him with a naked nose(!). Afraid of confrontation, I didn’t broach this faux pas with him directly but merely went home and had my alter ego post about his transgression, reigniting the shit-storm in the ‘hood between the strict maskers and the lax-maskers, comfortable that Celia Chandler was not involved in this debate. 

By far my most fun, though, has been on FB marketplace where I’m trying to unload a vast array of stuff accumulated after 10 years in this house. Or my Sasha Fierce** is trying to unload it. I had a potential buyer looking at Jack’s tools and in the course of a very long and boring conversation that I tolerated only because I thought I would make a sale, he revealed enough about himself to make me realize he was someone who had received a cease and desist letter - -not signed by the person he thought he was talking to but in fact signed by Celia Chandler! (solicitor client privilege prevents me from revealing more, of course) Thankfully the chin support in my mask kept my jaw in its proper place. Gobsmacked and slightly nervous best describe my feelings just then. And relief. Huge relief at the distance the fake account gave me. 

But most of all, social media connects me to communities. I’m active in the online death/dying/MAID community, following the lives of other widows across North America providing support and receiving support. I became involved in research studies I would not have known about without my portal to the world. Through the writing groups I’ve joined, I count as friends people - mostly women - around the English speaking world who find solace in writing about life past when life present and future seem uncertain. I alleviate loneliness from time to time by posting photos of killer-looking dinners or sourdough loaves and getting instant feedback.  My alter ego shares with me news about events and issues in my local community ranging from coyote sitings to planning meetings.  I’d be lonely without social. 

But we need to be cautious. This morning, I read a tweet from someone posing as a doctor who has been posting anti vaccination messages. Today he revealed: 

Dr Mendalias Diputserauoy

@DrMendalias

Hi, please read my surname backwards. Everything i have tweeted is made up crap. Why have I done this? To prove how easy it is to set yourself up as a professional and talk utter lies. Stop listening to random ppl on twitter/Facebook/YouTube and go get the vaccine.

* I tried to repurpose Alice but couldn’t recall her sign-on. I looked at her profile and pleased to see some of her FarmVille friends give her an annual birthday greeting. Oh yes, FB friendship roots run deep.

** Sasha Fierce is Beyonce’s alter ego.