I hate Facebook. Why? Let me count the ways. One, I hate that people say such stupid things on it. Like the Lipbaums. “It’s 5 o’clock and we’re going to dinner with the Mendermans!” Who cares who they’re having dinner with? No one, except maybe the Mendermans. And truthfully, I’m not even sure the Mendermans care. They’ve never liked the Lipbaums but always go to dinner with them because the Lipbaums always buy. How do I know? They never fail to post a video of Sy Lipbaum picking up the check and mouthing the words, “I’m buying.”
And who cares that they’re going to dinner at 5 o’clock? Is that important information? Maybe to burglars who will be happy to know that while the Lipbaums are on their way to dinner with the Mendermans no one will be at home except their arthritic dog Butch who hasn’t barked at an intruder since the Hoover Administration. And what if the Mendermans are robbed? Will they be able to sue the Lipbaums because they blabbed that they were not going to be home at 5 o’clock? Probably not because the Mendermans immediately posted this unforgettable response: “See you then!”
Though, truthfully, I’m not surprised the Lipbaums are going to dinner at 5 o’clock because that’s when the early bird prices kick in at the House of Meat Loaf where they eat on regular basis. How do I know? Because they post pictures of their meat loaf every damn time! Why? Why do people take pictures of their food? Especially this food. It’s not the least bit appealing in person so why would I want to look at it online? In protest, I refuse to click “Like,” “Comment” or “Share.” (Memo to Mark Zuckerberg: How about a “Who Gives a Crap” button?)
And in case you were wondering, it makes no difference to me that the Lipbaums are going to dinner with the Mendermans. I wouldn’t have dinner with the Mendermans if my life depended on it. Like Facebook, I hate the Mendermans. Not only do they mooch free dinners off of the Lipbaums, but last summer they had a barbecue and didn’t invite my wife and me. How do I know? The Sternferns posted it on Facebook! “We’re going to the Menderman’s for a barbecue! Can’t wait!” Can’t wait for what? Alice Menderman’s ptomaine-tinged tuna casserole and Herb Menderman’s lighter-fluid-filled London broil? Of course, the next day, they posted a slideshow of the menu items for all those not invited to see what they were missing. How nice of them to want to bring a little melanoma-inspired sunshine into our drab, leper-like lives.
I also hate Facebook because in addition to posting pictures of painstakingly putrid food, people post pictures of their kids in the most banal situations. Okay, not just any people — the Mendermans! Do I really need to see their 6-year-old daughter eating her first burrito in a restaurant two blocks from their house? Does that advance civilization in any way, shape or form? No, it just advances my blood pressure to a level slightly north of massive coronary.
At this juncture, you may be thinking: if I hate Facebook so much, why do I even have an account? An excellent question. And one that I’m not going to dodge. It would be immature of me to be such a virulent critic and then take the Fifth. I’m hopeful that people will one day wake up and smell the virtual coffee and begin using this intelligent communication tool not as sheep but as shepherds, leading the way to a world where discretion is the better part of squalor.
Until then, I will continue to rant and rave and be the lone sane voice in the wilderness raging against the inanity and insanity of it all. Like the video the Lipbaums posted of the Mendermans throwing up on their shoes in the parking lot of the House of Meat Loaf. And while it was crass, gross, and mind-numbingly moronic, for some strange reason, I found myself clicking “Like,” “Comment,” and “Share.” (Memo to Mark Zuckerberg: How about a “Best Barfing Video Ever” button?)