The art of sitting down and writing a letter has been replaced by typing out an email or sending a text message.
I was never one to send a letter.
With an attention span as short as my temper, even an email more than two paragraphs long gets the trash button treatment.
If you sent me one and I never replied, that’s probably why.
But I’ve decided to sit down and write one. A letter to something that can’t read.
Dear Facebook,
We’ve known each other for a few years, but this is the first time we’ve actually communicated one-on-one. My name is Scott Sanfilippo, but you probably know me as “Subscriber 7,654,342,116.” I’m not sure when the first time was we met, I could look that up on Timeline – the thing we all bitched about and even threatened to boycott you over, but it’s just too cumbersome to go back all those years. And is it really worth it?
Probably not.
Anyway, besides being a subscriber, I’m also a stockholder. Yeah, you don’t need to remind me how that whole deal went down. I’m thinking Zuckerberg wanted to pull a Jimmy Cayne and not be around the day that whole thing blew up. But what the hell, he made his money. I lost mine.
C’est la vie, right?
I wanted to take a minute to thank you for a few things.
Thanks for making my work day go from eight hours down to two. The six hours I spend scrolling through cat pictures and posts from George Takei has made me a much better worker. Those two hours I spend actually doing work, goes so fast and at the end of the day I feel so productive.
Thanks for providing me with an outlet to share what I ate for lunch. Before you came along, there was no way for me to tell all my friends – at the same time – that I just had the “Bad Ass Burrito” from Glickman’s Kosher Deli complete with a can of seltzer for just $4.99.
Thanks for providing me with an outlet to follow up on that lunch by telling my friends later that night that it truly lived up to its name. Unfortunately, if I posted a photo of the aftermath, you would have suspended me.
Thanks for giving me a way to connect with old friends. People I went to grade school, high school and college with. It saves me from attending class reunions where everyone talks about how successful they’ve been. I’ve got them all beat, tho. I bet there’s not one who had a sexual relationship with… um, never mind. I signed a non-disclosure agreement on that one.
Thanks for allowing me to post pictures of my dog. It may sound trivial, but as someone who doesn’t like kids, it’s kind of my own personal form of revenge for having to endure countless photos people post of their kids in the pool, picking their nose, zipping down a sliding board and getting their diaper changed.
High on my list of thanks is for giving me the ability to stalk some of the people I’m friends with. It’s always great to see someone and say, “Hey, how was that gay bar you were at last night? From the pictures you were tagged in on Facebook it seemed like fun! Oh, is this your wife?”
Thanks for allowing users, – oh sorry, subscribers – to post recipes. There are times when I forget how to make toast and the fact that Claudine Merriweather shared “Secrets to Perfect Toast Every Morning,” refreshed my memory. I’m really happy to see I’m not alone, as that post got over 70,000 shares!
If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have known that Abe Vigoda died six times in the past three years. It’s amazing that his doctors can continually revive him. I hope his quality of care doesn’t diminish under Obamacare.
Thanks for giving me real insight into what goes on in my friend’s minds. Through their Facebook posts, I’ve discovered that people I thought were normal, are totally freaking nuts. Who would have thought?
Before Facebook, I thought the only place to get real, unbiased and uncensored news was the National Enquirer. But you my friend, have provided me with a totally new view of the news! A simple scroll through my newsfeed gives me views from the left, right, middle, slightly left of center, and far right of right. Who needs fair and balanced when you have conspiracy theorists hanging along side left wing nuts and right wing wackos? You’ve sure made Walter Cronkite proud. Well done.
Finally, thanks for being there for me. In all of life’s up’s and down’s I know I can count on you. When I log on, you ask me how I’m doing. I have no problem telling you if I’m happy, sad, constipated or suicidal. You don’t judge me. You just take what I give and deal with it. It’s like having the perfect partner. The only thing that’s missing is the sex. But I know that’s what Craig’s List is for.
Thanks for listening, and here’s to many more happy and unproductive years together.
Your friend,
Scott aka #7,654,342,116