Do You Want to Live Forever?

February 8th, 2009

February 08, 2009 — Preface: While I was in the midst of composing my thoughts, Jimmy Scott posted a provocative thought experiment of his own about the competing demands of team loyalty, an adoring public and financial gain. While it’s kind of eerie to think I might be picking up the brainwaves of a future HOFamer, his post about Very Important People serves as a relevant counterpoint for the perspective from this Not-Quite Nobody.

Fame. I mentioned its allure briefly in a previous post. For those who crave the spotlight, fear not. Thanks to one-click Internet accessibilty, you too can achieve instant global recognition (remember the Pachelbel-strumming YouTube guitarist?), immerse yourself in CGI-enhanced reality (we’ve come a long way from Tron) and construct a virtual personality loaded with sex-appeal (cosplay, Facebook and MySpace come to mind).

Not that it’s all about self-glorification. Lisa Winston wrote a lovely post about how FaceBook (FB) has helped her grow a professional and personal network. Nonetheless, contrarian that I’ve been labeled by Benjamin Hill, I view my FB network from a more cautious perspective. Here were my comments to Winston’s post (with sections removed for relevance and photos added just for fun). . .

I guess the way I feel about all this cyber-socializing,… it is what it is. In other words, although I personally prefer face-to-face interaction over texting, cell phones, email, niche forums, chat rooms and social networking sites—it’s pretty obvious that most people prefer one-step-removed interaction. FB fits my bill as a MOR social-networking interface for MOR cultural tastes, meaning it’s likely supported by a large and diverse member base. And it does offer enough control so I feel as though I’m driving it and not the other away around.

Ironically perhaps, what I like about FB is the information is pull-delivered—it’s passively out there to be read or ignored at the viewer’s convenience. In other words, I can share news about my life without spamming my friends. I can offer my opinions without putting people on the defensive (hopefully) about theirs. And I can find out what’s going on in other people’s lives without pestering them for a weekly roundup. Occasionally, I even use it to find old acquaintances.

At any rate, my FB profile is less about establishing my individual territory in cyberspace than posting information I feel comfortable sharing. In short, my profile is pretty, well … unexciting, really.

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Managing my online information means staying on my toes a bit, although, in the current age of ID theft and other cyber-crimes, it seems no different than taking care how I use my credit card. As for the ‘virtual stalker’ threat, well, I guess it’s the same as not answering an unfamiliar caller ID, putting bank statements through the shredder or not clicking on an attachment/link in a questionable email. Or going even further back, it’s like tearing up the imprinted copies of credit-card receipts. (You all remember why the account number on your credit card is imprinted and not silk-screened? Why are the numbers still ‘bumpy,’ I wonder?) Or why you shouldn’t give car rides to strangers.

I use ‘ignore’ a lot—on people I don’t know, applications I’m not interested in, friend recommendations I don’t want, requests for information I don’t feel like sharing. In fact, I ignore many more people than I accept. I think the ability to set some personal boundaries is even more important in today’s age of 24/7, trans-oceanic connectivity. To make an analogy, something I obviously enjoy doing, my mailing address is publicly recorded with local and federal government; however it certainly doesn’t mean a person who looks it up is entitled to sit in my living room.

I don’t really spend lots of time hanging out on FB; I should point out though, I think this is more personal taste (eccentricity) than anything else. If my job required a lot of travel and an organizer filled with dozens of contacts, I’m sure I’d be spending a lot more time using FB to keep in touch with everyone.

And there you have it. A ridiculously long post about a Baby Boomer’s $0.02 worth of opinion on pop-culture. . . .BeesGal

Of course, the downside of guarding against identity thieves is other people get less of a chance to know me. Fortunately I’m not famous, which means most readers of my FB or blog assume there’s a whole bunch of other things they don’t know about me, and don’t care. Even if I don’t mention it, it’s fairly safe to assume I’m a lot like everyone else—work a desk job, shovel the driveway, do laundry, eat in more often than not, have a dog named Molly.

The best part of being a non-celebrity is I can be reasonably assured my friends appreciate me for who I am, not what advantages they can gain from my association. I’m willing to bet most of you feel the same way about your friendships; they’re priceless treasures, not negotiable assets. So why doesn’t this feeling of human commonality transfer well to people who’ve been labeled “celebrities?” It isn’t always about money. However, it is almost always about fame.

Here’s what I mean. Last season Rich Barker posted a comment without mentioning his background. Unfortunately for him, I’d done my homework and outed his credentials as a former MLB pitcher. (Sorry bud, I needed the pro-bro endorsement. Ha, ha, ha! ) Barker knows this sort of attention tends to hamper meaningful relationships. He remarked to me once how people treated him differently once they found out he’d been a professional ballplayer.

“I want them to relate to me because they trust me, not because they’re looking for strokes from an ex-big leaguer.”

I agree. It’s never happened that someone has asked to be introduced to my friend Laura, who didn’t even know me until I moved into her home; yet she opened her heart to a young, lonely gal struggling to make a name for herself in a strange new world. More common are introduction requests to a “famous” connection. Bad move. My choice of friends, Facebook or otherwise, has nothing to do with how rich and/or cool they are.

And thus we wind down to my real point.

The next time you are about to,
. . .post a snarky comment on an athlete’s blog,
. . .interrupt a family dinner to get an autograph,
. . .ask a player to give you a ball or bat,
. . .berate a bonus baby for not signing.

Why not take a moment, and consider what your gesture means. If it were you on the receiving end, wouldn’t you prefer to be valued as a friend? Bye for now!

Entry Filed under: Game of Life,Major League Baseball,Minor Leagues