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Not to put too fine a point on it but I'm really not a technophobe--I'm just lazy. When the Long Suffering Spouse brought a cell phone into the house I resisted the urge to upgrade my lifestyle with this instrument of depression.

The cell phone lures you in by the convenience of it all. Put it in your pocket and call anyone anytime no matter where you are located. They are just waitng for you to make their day shine brighter.

The first crack in the veneer of communications made easy comes when instead of the delighted "Rich--it's so great to hear your voice"--you get (usually) music that puts an approximate age on you or worse music that makes the person calling think you are hip and in touch with what's happening then a kid or dog voice making jokes and finally a leave a message because as you hear this I'm checking the caller ID and trying to remember why I gave you my phone number in the first place.

Telephone tag becomes a social pastime that tests the dedication to one's relationships. You start to check for missed calls and dialed numbers. The phone is charged and recharged as you consider 911 and Amber alerts when your friends and loved ones and a certain well beloved moderator fails to dial in. All your instincts cry out to let the little ones fly and be free but the Mother Hen overrules and cries out for the validation an answered cell phone makes.

Sigh.

Having reconciled myself to a cell phone being not much better then a home phone with sleeping friends snoring away to incessant rings I have recently been introduced to another insidious form of 'easy' communication which promises delights in social contact.

Facebook.

An innocuous term dredging up memories for the Long Suffering Spouse of me constantly having my nose stuck two inches form the latest issue of Batman or Avengers or their numerous spin-off titles.

Facebook--sign up and let the magic begin.

However long this phenomeon has been in existance has been the the entire length of time I have given no thought whatever to it. Even having the kids own a page to themselves raised not a interest or perk of curiousity. Grand-children pictures posted--soo??? Where are the printed copies thank you very much. The more my delightful Mrs. would explore those vistas of companionship and dialogue the less concerned I became. I was more then content with my little niche here at Litnet. To be a hidden treasure known only to the few and blessed--yes--that was my destiny. Glory to God in the Heavens and a small ray of sunlight for me here in the hallowed halls of Logos worship. More then enough.

Until the other night.

I was talking to a lady acquaintance (sometimes it seems that's all the friends I really have) from another site and the conversation took a turn when she asked if I had facebook. I said no, didn't really get into that sort of thing. Probably not the smartest thing to say because suddenly it became very important that I get on facebook NOW and that it was free and we could talk privately as the forum I was on is public and occasionally manners could be better.

This attention to my ego worked it's spell and her patient encouragement and about 10 minutes later I'm registered and with a first friend. Took me an embarassing amount of time to find the chat block and a pleasant half hour went by.

And the disease began. The lady in question I have yet to see on chat since--been five days now. So much for finding and communicating with friends on a regular basis. For experimental purposes I locate another friend by first name alone (fortunately I spot her picture right off) since I was unaware of her real last name and other then acknowledged as a friend--no communication. Oh well at she took me on.

I was content with that. I quickly realized this would be like the cell phone--hit and very much miss. I was already regulating this to the background of my life and maybe peek in once a week or so--like my e-mail since I rarely use that--ask Grace86 about her numerous attempts to drag me into the modern age in that respect.

Now I rarely involve myself in the wife's side of the computer and she likewise. I debated mentioning this facebook thing to her but let it go more for laziness and having my only little corner of friends that were MINE!!!!--plus not wanting to be mocked.

Little did I know the mulitiplication tactics of this cultural icon. The Mrs. surprises me with the knowledge that she knows I am a common man after all and would I like some recommendations on who to add to my friends list.

Having enough trouble keeping up with the Litnet friends I was not kindly deposed to revealing a cry for attention or intruding into someone's life unasked (one certain moderator notwithstanding) and I told her to let it be.

And yet--the siren call of being noticed--being wanted--sigh.

I invite my son onboard, AndaveYa has already discovered me based on a hint to her blog while I was in Facebook chat euphoria and then a niece, a future daughter-in-law, some forgotten friends-- my the list is growing and I am fascinated at how easy it all is. Except the chat box is empty--often.

Sigh. Plus my real name is out there. Not that big a deal -- the drama queen is delighted at being discovered in another venue. Except for certain names that keep showing up on the screen that the site feels I ought to be inviting. We shall see. Haven't rejected anyone yet but there is one that I hope never realizes I am there. Some things should stay buried.