Facebook, blogs and twitter (in spite of not having a twitter account) have affected the way I think on a day-to-day basis. When I observe or stumble across something funny or if something amusing happens to me, I immediately think about blasting it out into the internet abyss. When something funny happened to someone before the internet, they had specific people they would tell. This is how I imagine it anyway. They would write it in a letter, or call that person when they got home (because cell phones didn’t exist either) or just tell the people they lived with. But not now. No, no. I blast it out to anyone who
cares is bored enough to read.
Instead of thinking of the person who would find it most amusing and telling them, I send it out there as some kind of test, I suppose. These are the things I am testing:
1. If it’s really as funny as I think it is.
2. Who my true friends are, i.e. the ones who think it’s as funny as I think it is.
Beyond the test quality of this activity, it serves as a way for me to formally document the things that I think are funny and somehow meaningful. And this, my friends, is how my book will eventually be brought to life, whatever it is about, whether it’s a novel (which I’m willing to bet it won’t be), a collection of essays or perhaps poems, or maybe it’ll be a “how-to” of sorts (or a “how-not-to”). A self-indulgent activity? Yes. Productively self-indulgent? One can only hope.
I must draw a line, however.
My mom just sent me a text message that read, “What are jeggings?”.
And I laughed. To myself. After laughing and answering her, my next thought was to post about it on Facebook, with the hope of making someone else laugh, too. But maybe I’ll just call my sister and tell her and then we’ll laugh together and then it’ll be that thing… that we laugh about… as sisters.
My point is, not everything should be for everyone. Some things are more special when you share them with a few, like jeggings.
But some things are better shared with all. Like this photograph: