Where everybody knows your name…
Because I am always on the cutting edge (of 2007), I finally joined facebook. I’ve been resistant to it as I am resistant to all social networking crap but when it comes down to it, I am way too lazy to write emails telling people how I’m doing, which leaves me with an inbox full of emails hassling me for just such updates, which leaves me feeling stressed out and avoidant, so better that I should just give in and be lazy and let facebook keep all my distant family and friends apprised of my life.
But ugh, the angst! I did not expect to be bombarded by friend requests from childhood schoolmates and obscure relatives, and suddenly I feel intensely self-conscious about my life and how I represent it to all these people. Because, of course, they have to understand how awesome and impressive my life is and, by extension, how supercool I am. I can allow no ambiguity on that front.
From a sociological standpoint, it’s really interesting to see what became of all the people I grew up with. I grew up in a rural small town and there was no question that I wouldn’t let the door hit me in the ass when I left, and there was even less question about the fact that I would leave, and I sort of assumed that everyone else felt the same way. Yet most of the kids I grew up with still live there. Many left and came back, but plenty of them never left at all. The women now work as nurses or medical assistants or they stay at home with the kids, and the men are all burly and post photos of the fish they’ve caught, or their rifles, or their military stuff, or anything involving an American flag. And they all have kids, without exception. And they all go to church.
I’m not sure why this is all so surprising to me, but I guess not everyone felt the way I did about our small town…or small town living in general…or conservative redneck Christian culture.
At the same time, I have to admit that I secretly yearn for it, the thought that I could go back to my small town and right off the bat I’d have at least ten friends (with kids!) who’d be eager to hang out and reminisce about our intertwined childhoods and where our families are now. Sure, we could absolutely never talk politics or religion or parenting or anything like that, but oh, to be where everybody knows your name!
February 2nd, 2010 at 8:22 pm
I yearn, too. And then I look around and realize there is no going back.