Social Networking…


As mentioned in earlier posts, I bought my first guitar last month.  Yesterday, after my lesson, I added a pair of drumsticks and a practice pad, plus an improved guitar case, to my collection.  I expected that none of the employees in the music shop would be surprised, but I did think that my husband would find it startling. Of course, I ought to have known better. Upon unwrapping them, he merely commented, “Hmm, yes, I had wondered when you would be bringing those home.” (By the way, have you guys checked out the classes on the drumchannel.com? So cool!)

Yeah, yeah.

Does coveting Mark Knophler’s guitar make me a bad Christian?

Does it change if I add that I would be satisfied with a replica, and not the original itself?

 

Anyway, I deleted my Facebook account. It’s not enough to “deactivate” it; one must go through and individually delete each photo, unfriend each person, leave every group and uncheck each liked item. It takes hours. While I hide nothing, and have no secrets, I do prefer to select the context of my audience. It bothers me that Facebook changes its privacy settings without notifying you, and that there are work-arounds for people to find you, even people you try to ban. Then again, Facebook isn’t really a social network; it’s a data collection company, and its users are its commodity.

I thought about it for awhile before deleting it. Facebook is a useful publicity tool – good for expanding the audience of a blog. Of course, that usefulness is compromised when one sets privacy preferences to anything other than “public.” I considered that while I don’t object to “Shannon Christensen, blog writer” as a public person, I do mind my daughter being plastered all over the internet for God-Knows-Whoever to watch and observe. After acknowledging that… well, it was easy (albeit tedious) to delete the account.

All this thinking was prompted by another upcoming event I had planned on attending. I find that there are some people I specifically do not want to be near, and some of them will be at that event. I can’t prevent them coming, and although I should not be the one who has to leave, I am paying their tab, so to speak. That happens often, don’t you agree? We end up paying for the mistakes of others, while they appear to be free to move about as they wish. Moral high-ground isn’t always a very warm place to live. Yet, despite its chilly temperature, I remain convinced that there isn’t any other place where the air is clean. You’re just faking it, if you don’t really stand for something.

Back to practicing….

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About Shannon Blue Christensen

Storyteller. Author. Editor. Literary Critic. Director. Teacher. Knitter. nascent Musician. Student. Operations and Quality. Marketing. Historian. Lear's Fool. View all posts by Shannon Blue Christensen

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