Lost and found

I have a love-hate relationship with Facebook

On the one hand, some of the features are confusing. The "conversation" is disjointed, as we're not all talking to the same people. The little apps for quizzes and games are annoying. And I can't figure out how to put music up on our band page, once again in production after my first attempt vanished into the ether.

On the other hand, it's the best lost and found I've encountered since Google was invented.

I've been paying some attention to my long-ignored Facebook account, adding contacts to it. In the process, it occurred to me to look for Megan and Vanessa, a couple of musicians I'd lost touch with. I found them instantly. In Megan's case, I discovered I'd been spelling her last name wrong all this time.

They friended me back within 24 hours. One of them sent a personal message saying she'd been thinking about me. I'd half wondered if she would even remember who I was.

They're not the only ones. I've reconnected with people from high school, grad school ... in some cases I hadn't known if they were alive or dead.

Funny thing is, I've been hearing buzz about how Facebook is so over because of its lack of exclusivity. If your grandmother is friending you, how cool can it be? For me, though, that's its biggest strength. I can go elsewhere to find the small groups of people who share my esoteric interests. Facebook is where I reconnect with friends I've known in real life.

It feels good to know that people from my past are still alive, still doing OK.

Bank robbers and Facebook users

"Could you take off your hat, or turn it around?"

I looked up from my deposit slip. "Huh?"

"It's to prevent robberies," the teller said apologetically. "I know you've been coming in here for years, but it's the policy; we have to apply it to everyone. No hats, no dark glasses."

I pondered the implications as I stuffed my hat into my purse. Bank robbers concealed their identities with baseball caps and sunglasses? Really? I'd always assumed they wore a mask that covered their entire face. Granted, they'd probably attract a bit of attention while standing in line ...

According to the teller, a lot of people have recently robbed banks using the less stereotypical mode of disguise. "It's impossible to tell what a person looks like with a hat and dark glasses," she explained. "The cameras don't pick up anything. You can't see their eyes."

* * *

After declaring Myspace obsolete, People Who Think About Such Things are speculating that Facebook has become a victim of its own success. Now that everyone knows about it -- now that your grandmother can friend you, and probably will -- Facebook isn't cool anymore.

Under normal circumstances I'd find this bit of cultural news only mildly interesting. Unfortunately, it may be relevant to my life. I was finally getting around to constructing a band page for Facebook. (Actually started it a few weeks ago, but everything I did vanished, and the feature currently appears to be fried.) If our target audience stops using the site, we'll have to think of some other way to promote our gigs and sell our CD.

We're already on Twitter, but I don't use it very often. It's hard to engage in meaningful dialogue 140 characters at a time. While I don't feel all self-conscious about it like Norah Jones does, my tweets are nothing to write home about. They haven't resulted in any CD sales.

Neither, come to think of it, has this blog.

* * *

Because my brain is weird, the bank robbery thing got me thinking about the social media thing. I knew all along that getting the band noticed through social media would be difficult. How could it not? My friend DeppityBob describes it as being like "screaming 'I'M IMPORTANT!' in a sea of ADD people yelling the same thing."

Standing out from the crowd is nearly impossible. To achieve anonymity, all you need is a cap with a visor and a pair of cheap sunglasses.