People That I Can't Hang Out With (Part V)

I've got a few beefs with Facebook that I've been looking forward to airing out on this here blog.  The problem is, the theme of this string of posts has been 'people that I can't hang out with' and therein lies the problem.  Facebook, in it's very essence, is all about not having to hang out with people.  So really, I'll be talking about people that I can't hang out with because of the way they use a website which makes it so that I never have to hang out with them.  Does that make sense?  No?  That's ok, I kind of got lost in that mishmash of logic myself…

Anyways, there's a lot of ways that Facebook can (and most certainly does) annoy.  Pictures of the food you're about to eat.  New high scores that you've achieved in Farmville.  That clever status update about how you're so glad the weekend is finally here.  I don't know.  Maybe that's the very minutia upon which Facebook gained it's popularity.  Maybe deep down those are the details about you that people really do want to see and know.  The peak behind the curtain that is the mundane in each and every one of our lives.  I mean, 955 million active users can't be wrong… right?  But for me, that's the sort of stuff I can do without.  I don't know, maybe I'd miss it once it was gone.  But for now, I tend to skim past most of it.

But again, these are just minor annoyances.  Nothing to make it so that I can't hang out with you.  Just things I could do without.  And then there's the ones that go beyond.  The ones not only could I do without, but also want to make me feed you your keyboard one button at a time and strangle you with the mouse cord.  Wait... the wireless mouse cord?  Dammit.  Anyways, without further adieu, they are:

Photo etiquette.  If you take the time to post photos, I'll probably take the time to look at them.  I might even grace you with a witty comment or two, depending on how generous I'm feeling.  By clicking accept on that friendship request that you sent, I've basically declared that I have an interest in your life.  Not just to you, but also to myself.  I'm not one to try and have every single person I've ever met appear on my friends list, simply so that I feel popular.  No, I consider myself fairly selective, and as such, the number of 'friends' I keep isn't very high.  It could probably even be trimmed down by another 20 to 40 people, but for now, it's a manageable amount.  So, as long as the album doesn't sound like the most boring thing ever posted in the history of the internet, chances are I'll click far enough in that I'll at least glance at the thumbnail view of the whole album.

Most of the time it's a few quick snaps from the wedding you were at on the weekend.  If I'm lucky, it's pictures of you and your bikini clad friends frolicking amongst the waves of some Caribbean paradise.  Sometimes it's the aforementioned food that you made for dinner.  Either way, it's rarely a waste of my time, and at worst, a mild annoyance.  Until you get to one of the offending albums.  The albums that make you regret ever having signed up for Facebook in the first place.  The camera dump.  250 pictures that easily could have been edited down to 40.  Ten of the same shot, while you try to get one where everyone's eyes are open and cousin Billy isn't picking his nose.  20 pictures of your kid on the swing.  Look, we don't mind your kid.  He's kind of cute.  But pick the best one (I'll even let you have two or sometimes three) and let's move on.  I might say 'aww…' when I see the first pic, just like you had hoped I would when you posted it.  But what good is it, if by the time I get to picture number 30, I start cursing the kid's name?  Look, I get it, he's having the time of his life in each and every picture.  They're all great, well composed shots, and it's hard to choose which is actually the best.  But do it.  For the love of all that is good, just do it.

If you're a glutton for punishment - which I am - then you might keep on scrolling.  And that's when you get to the pictures whose sole purpose seems to be to annoy me.  I'm talking about the ones that haven't been properly rotated (once upon a time this might have been acceptable… but in today's day and age, where it takes just one click of the mouse to get it right, it's a complete and utter slap in the face) or the out of focus ones, or the ones of the ground that you accidentally snapped while pulling the camera out of it's case.  I know what you've done.  You plugged in the camera and clicked 'upload all'.  You think we'll be able to realize and accept this.  But all it says to me is that you couldn't be bothered to take the time to edit or arrange the pictures, so why should I take the time to look at them?

I could probably go on for days about proper photo album etiquette.  But I won't.  You see, there's one more thing that must be addressed, and I'd better get it off my chest now.  Status etiquette.  You know what a status is, right?  Where you type a little blurb and post it for other's to see.  Sometimes it's a funny joke.  Some times it's a serious announcement.  Sometimes it's just simply what you did today.  Since it can be almost anything and everything, it's wide open to the annoyances that can come from the unchecked masses that use them.  I could probably write a whole book on this.  But I'm going to limit it to just one.  The one that annoys me the most.  The Tease.

If you're at all like me, then you know it well.  When someone posts something so juicy, so intriguing, so ripe with drama and melodrama, that you must know more.  But more is something you will never get.  For they have worded this post in such a way as to completely draw you in, but at the same time, leave out any details that might let you know what is actually going on.  For example, a post might read: 'Oh my god! I can't believe this has happened!!!!'  Intriguing, right?  They could have just been proposed to by their boyfriend, or their mom might have been hit by a car.  It could go either way.  The only thing we know for sure is that they would not post such a thing if they stubbed their toe or couldn't find the remote control.  No, one of your friends could be experiencing a life changing event, and you need to know what it is so that you can offer your help and support if the worst has happened, or your congratulations and well-wishes if the best has happened.

Worst yet, I'm not even the first to read this post.  Thirty other people have already responded.  Comments along the lines of 'What happened?', 'This sounds serious, what's going on?', etc…  But do you ever respond to these queries?  Do you leave a comment to explain the situation?  No.  Not a peep.  And this is where the confusion comes in.  If the matter is too serious to discuss on Facebook, why post it there in the first place?  If it really is serious, your real friends probably already know, so again, why post it?  If it's not serious at all, then really, you're just after the attention that comes from such a post, and are the worst kind of person.

Either way, I can't (fake) hang out with you (on the internet).

People That I Can't Hang Out With (Part IV)

I'm not a monster.  Please, try to keep that in mind as you read this.

Look, I like pets as much as the next person.  Obviously not as much as some people, otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation.  But, I like pets, plenty.  The problem is: I like pets.  Pets.  Not four legged friends that we pretend are people.  Pets are not people.  And that's a line that's become far too blurry in recent years.

Pets are great.  They make great companions.  They liven up the home.  They improve your quality of life.  It doesn't take long before pets are basically a part of the family.  I get it.  I really do.  I've loved many pets over the years.  And I've always looked back fondly at the time we spent together.

But there is a line.  And too many people cross it.  I'm talking about the outgoing voice mail (or answering machine, back in the day) where a family might add the dog to the list of names that is read out, as if someone might be calling to leave a message for "Jim, Jane, little Todd or Rover."  Or the Christmas card signed from everyone, including the cats.  Hilarious, right?  Everyone that hears that voicemail is going to crack right up and declare: "Leave a message for Rover? How deliciously absurd!" Or, "How could Mittens sign that Chrismas card? He must think he's people!"

Now, I'm no expert in comedy.  And why should I shit all over it, so long as the family is getting a smile or two out of doing it?  But I must.  It's like seeing a prop comic get out his trunk full of zany gags.  It's just a lowly form of humour, and I'll be damned if I'm not going to look down my nose at it.

And here's the problem: much like your newborn child, nobody likes your pet as much as you do. Nobody.  You've spend hours and days and years growing to love all the little quirks and nuances that make your pet unique and great.  I'm not try to discredit that.  I think it's a great part of life.  But stop being so determined that everyone must love your pet as much as you do.  They never will.  Sure, there's nothing wrong with bringing your dog to the lake with friends, or letting your cat sit on their lap and receive a good rub.  But knock it off with the Christmas cards and voicemail messages.  And for all that is good and holy, don't create Facebook accounts for your pets and then post messages as if they were the ones typing them. Bingo says: "I buried a bone in the back yard today." Really? Seek professional help.  Please.

Which brings me to the main topic of debate for this post.  Because up until now we've discussed some pretty harmless scenarios.  Sure, they might annoy, but big deal; some people are annoying.  We can learn to live with it.  But what about when it starts to affect that person's life?  What about when the vet bills start to creep into the thousands?  The ten thousands?  I know two separate cases in which people have spent over $6000 and $10,000 respectively on their dogs.  And, like I said at the start, I like to think I'm not a monster, but seriously people?  It's a pet. I'm not suggesting you don't love that pet.  But at the end of the day, it's just a pet.

So am I a monster?  Once you truly love a living thing, can you no longer assign a dollar value to it's life?  Or should people just accept that death is an inevitable part of having a pet.  And it's never easy, but eventually it will come to pass.  Sometimes your time with a pet ends quickly and suddenly, sometimes it lasts longer than you could have ever hoped.  Sometimes it's not fair, other times maybe you cling on to a pet that's in pain for a little while too long.  I'm not trying to deny or trivialize a person's love for their pet, but I still don't think people should be spending that kind of money (or worse yet, going into debt) just to squeeze a few more years of life out of a pet, whose life - for one reason or another - would probably have otherwise come to an end.

Look, their heart might be in the right place - attachment and devotion can be a tricky beast, after all. But at the end of the day, the head should make the final decision.  The logical decision.  If you think that's too cold and heartless, maybe you're right.   Maybe I am.  But this is simply my opinion, and these are the people I can't hang out with.  Maybe you can. 

Actually, saying I can't hang out with such a person is a bit of a stretch. Really, I just think we fall on different sides of the argument between a person that accepts a pet for what it is, and a person that is endlessly devoted to these animals, no matter what the cost.  That said, don't get me started on people that take their pets to therapists, or the fact that pets are allowed on planes nowadays.  Those people have definitely crossed the line.  The ever-increasingly blurred line that separates pet from person.  You can love a pet.  You can adore a pet.  You should never abuse a pet or mistreat it.  But if you treat a pet that much as though it were a human being - and often times, even better than you treat other human beings - then I'm sorry, but you're someone that I just can't hang out with.