So if, OK… when I finally keel over and if there’s some kind of memorial service and people actually show up, I want you to make it perfectly clear to those assembled that I liked my Facebook friends best. My Facebook friends have never ever disappointed me. It’s not that my flesh and blood friends go around disappointing me… they don’t. They’re great but my Facebook friends are pitching a perfect game and you can’t beat that.
The reason for this is that I don’t expect a thing from my FB “friends". Maybe an occasional “like”… that’s it, the bar’s pretty low. If I have a couple hundred friends and I post a gorgeous picture of some fall scenery and I get 10 “likes”, that’s the standard, I should never expect any more than 10 “likes” no matter what I post. With the possible exception of an announcement of a lottery win and an accompanying query as to whether anyone needs a loan. I can see myself getting a few more “likes” in a situation like that.
Facebook friends don’t know what you really look like. They only know the pictures you’ve posted that you’ve gleaned from every picture ever taken of yourself. And of course, as a public service, you selected ones from when you were 200 lbs lighter and still had teeth and hair. That goes both ways I think, unless there actually are middle-aged women out there who haven’t been photographed since college and don’t have much to choose from.
Your FB friends think you live in a really cute house. They’ve never seen pictures of the things your cats hock up in corners, waiting to be discovered by being stepped in while barefoot. And you’ve never documented and posted pictures of the rotting garbage piled up everywhere except in the direct route from the couch to the refrigerator where the beer is.
And there’s absolutely no reason for your Facebook friends to doubt that you’re an Aspen ski instructor in the winter and a marine biologist in the South Pacific in the summer.