Monday 1 June 2015

Are we 'sharing' or really sharing?

My personal jury is still proverbially out on whether Facebook is guilty on all counts of being dangerous, divisive, fake and wasting billions of hours in the workplace.  (I am not, by the way, anywhere near my place of work as I write).  Or, whether it is a friendly and fun way to stay in touch with friends and family old and new, share news and photographs and bring together communities.
Hmmmmmmm
............................
...........................(talk among yourselves)
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Sorry, had to break off there, the boss walked in.

So, what was I saying?

Let's look at exactly what we 'share' on Facebook.  We share pictorial evidence of family trips to parks and museums, walks in the fresh country air and paddling on sandy beaches.  Smiley happy siblings ambling alongside rippling streams or skipping over lapping waves.

It gives the impression of family life where life is a constant walk in the park.

Who are we kidding!?

You don't share pictures of mum pulling her hair our, having a nervous breakdown in the kitchen while the kids lay into each other and dad sits ignoring them watching A Place in the Sun (Home or Away).  Or is that just my house?

Speaking of sandy beaches and educational TV, Teddy was watching The Island with Bear Grylls the other day (again, I didn't feel the urge to photograph and share).

However, it was a special moment when one of the men decided they'd had enough and wanted to leave the island so they had to use the 'emergency radio'.

Teddy turned to me and asked: "This is a rubbish programme mum, they're supposed to be living in the wild on a desert island and they even have an emergency radiator."

The other week, I felt honoured and proud when a dear friend asked me to judge an Easter bonnet competition at a children's party she was organising.

Hindsight.....I won't be doing that gig again!!

Ten expectant angelic faces glued their beady eyes on me as I inspected every creation laid out on my friend's kitchen table.
I noted detail and complimented each one on the different way the fluffy blobs and colourful feathers had been artistically glued on.

Then I had to choose the winner.....cue drum roll and held breath (don't try this at home kids).....

As I reached out my hand to point to the winning entry, the floodgates opened. 
Nine wailing five / six-year-olds is quite a din let me tell you, police helicopters were soon hovering above and a bright search light was panning up and down my friend's street.
Funnily enough, the happy smiling winner clutching her prize is the very image that would make it onto Facebook, not the nine red-faced blubbers hurling themselves at their mothers as they threw me daggers and made a mental note to cross me off the next party invite list.

Forget on-camera 'hey, I take my kids to the park every day' sharing, my idea of sharing with friends is actually physically sharing time with them; round at their house, judging Easter bonnets, eating cabbage soup and chatting about conservatory roofs, being beaten by my 12-year-old neighbour at draughts or helping them de-clutter their spare room.  Those are the good times that you just share and enjoy, and don't need to share on social media.

And don't get me started on emojis.  Again, it's an opportunity to share your image of yourself as a fun, hip, cool person, when perhaps in reality, you're not!!  The other day I posted a snippet on Facebook followed by a cocktail glass, a Cuban cigar and a Panama hat.  In reality, I'm a 'don't drink, don't smoke' repressed and depressed wuss and I don't even know where Panama is!!

And another thing....sharing medical ailments....what's that all about?!
Speaking of which, I went to the doctor's this week..... (I'm aware this blog sometimes verges on an entry in a 1980s Crack-a-Joke book).....  Why is it that when you arrive in the doctor's surgery, a mole that just an hour earlier was the size of a small Carribean island owned by Sir Richard Branson is suddenly barely perceptible to the naked eye. 
Sorry, just felt the need to share.

I'll leave you with a classic Ted'ism.

Driving along the M62 on the way home from visiting Grandma in Bridlington.

Teddy: "Mum......"
Me: "Yes Teddy?"
Teddy: "I wish I was a bird, then I wouldn't have to pay to go on holiday."