Tuesday, October 06, 2009

ROFLOL-BMH

    Three of my nieces recently added me as a friend on Facebook. This move posed little risk for my college-age nieces because I am old and my posts are soft and mushy - like my bones. Most of my status updates, for instance, involve napping. Also, I only know how to do two things: updates and clicking the little thumbs up button to show approval. There are no sharp edges to my Facebook updates. 
    The real risk is for people like me - elderly people in their early forties. Navigating Facebook for us is akin walking across the field during a rugby game. There's going to be injuries. Hips will be broken. But now that I've run across that metaphorical field for a few months, I do have some advice for newly-elderly people who want to befriend young people on Facebook.
    First, do not read young people posts. They like to describe what they're doing in college. You, as a relative who cares for them, their education and their safety, do not want to know what they're doing in college. For instance, one of my nieces might hypothetically post something like the following:
    "Skipping class today. I lost the car last night and need to find it quick before someone opens the trunk. Hope my parents don't find out."
    See? There's nothing constructive that you can do after reading something like that. It's best that you never read it in the first place. Embracing your impending senility is a lot easier without being confronted with painful questions on Facebook.
    Which brings me to my second tip. If you must read young people posts on Facebook, don't reply to them. Don't comment on them. You might think that you will fit in - that no one will know how old you are because the Internet gives you a measure of anonymity. 
    You would be wrong.
     I wish I had a dime for every time I've popped out a witty bon mot on one of my niece's pages only to have three of her friends comment:
    "Dude, your post smells like my grandmother's house."
    That's right. On Facebook, old people posts literally smell like mothballs.
    Sometimes, I can barely type ROFLOL through the tears. And that only intensifies the pain and irony - because I'm way too old to physically roll on the floor and laugh out loud like the youngsters do. Not without busting my hip. You know, ROFLOL-BMH.
    Finally, never use the phrase "bon mot" on Facebook. Or in a blog post. You'll just look like a tool.



7 comments:

DeeMomma said...

LMAO-ROFLOL-BMH.

Anonymous said...

getting older is a warm flaky buttery biscuit with just the right amount of burn on it

Lee said...

Hey Uncle Richard,

I loved this last post. it's a little lame but here is my blog I just started. My posts are few and far between but if you want to read and leave mothball-smelling comments, be my guest.

Lee

Grim Richard said...

You know, Mr. Biscuit, you've been leaving buttery biscuit comments for years now. I kinda like your dedication.

I don't understand it, but I like it just the same.

Ron said...

As always, you made me laugh. For that my friend, I thank you. Think Fast, Live Slow.

Television Mom said...

Very funny. I read this on Ron Feinbaum's recommendation. I too an an "over 40" and hear my 15 year old complaining because "Grandma commented on my post again!! Mom, can't you make her stop???"
I too am a humor-blogger. If you get bored, feel free to check out mine at http://guineapigreport.blogspot.com/

Grim Richard said...

I liked your blog, Television Mom. That's probably because I have Bronte/Austen thing, too....

http://grimrichard.blogspot.com/2006/10/emma-feed-mr-wickham-to-pigs.html