Space vs. Face: Mrs. Lucky tag-teams social media with son-in-law

This is one big world my friends. The latest population count stands at 7.053 BILLION human bodies on this earth of ours, so one can see how space issues can be so prevalent.

Don’t you remember sitting in the back seat of the family vehicle with your siblings, squabbling about who touched who, who started ‘it’, and who was hogging more than their allotted space?

I sure do, and it inevitably ended with mom turning around while swatting blindly into the fray, an action that would be totally hindered by the new seat belt laws of today.

How funny would that have been back in the day, to watch mom being stuffed and cuffed for not only child abuse (only time-outs now—NO HITTING!) but failure to be belted?

I’m guessing my teen self would have enjoyed that immensely, not gonna lie.

Back to the issue of space, and how the older I get the more of it I seem to need.

Not so much physical space—I rarely put myself in a position to be crowded—but personal space, privacy, quiet contemplation.

Clearly, I’m pretty much an island of one, because these social networks can barely keep up with the vast amount of folks that possess the desperate need to share so much of their lives with the other 7 billion on their planet.

And like any other growing family it’s just a matter of time until the house is overflowing, bursting at the seams, so before you know it you’re flat out of space.

Imagine the day when FacetheBook finally has to stop inviting new members because it just cannot handle the influx of baby/puppy/wedding/birthday events etc., followed by boo-hoo comments and what y’all cooked for dinner.

I guess my question is what will happen if the Face runs out of space?

Where oh where will these people turn when the Feed stops feeding?

No space for your face, no seat for your tweet, how will you fare if there’s nowhere to share?

Can one even imagine having to return to the faithful, non-text capable ol’ telly, or do I dare suggest, a handwritten note?

Sheesh, in today’s society it’s darn near impossible to get a cashier to make eye contact with a customer, not to mention engaging in some polite conversation.

If your face has no screen saver feature chances are they’re just not interested—the cell phone…

The cell phone…

Lost the train of thought there, so let me hand off to my son-in-law and his twenty-something view of FaceSpace…

[Enter son-in-law]

—

A little over a year and a half ago, my wife and I made the mutual decision that our tenure on facebook would come to an end.

We would quietly retire to our own little corner of the internet where we could share funny cat pictures with one another in romantic solitude, away from the hustle and bustle of status updates and being “poked” by the heavy set woman in HR.

We thought we would be among the first of many like minded twenty-somethings that would break the digital bonds of facey-space in favor of actual human to human interaction.

We were wrong.

With every new friend I meet, every new coworker, every new coffee house barista, I’m met with the same question: why don’t you have a facebook?

It’s never levied with sincere curiosity; it’s always disgust.

The immediate assumption is that no one would ever voluntarily remove themselves from being forced to see dozens of pictures of their third cousin’s fat baby every time he dribbled spaghetti-O’s onto his “I’m with stupid” tee shirt.

I must have been arrested for some heinous internet crime, or living a double life—surely only maintaining a second family somewhere in Omaha is the only viable reason for my absence in the world’s digital high school cafeteria.

So, as one of the internet’s only two living hermits, I pose this question to you:

What happens when, as Mrs. Lucky so well pointed out, facebook is so jammed packed with three hundred million dead people’s profile pics and instragramed shots of lunch that you can no longer let us all know in real time what you think of Mondays? (A real drag, right? Better tell the masses!)

What happens when there’s no digital space for your farm? Will the livestock die? Probably. Then that blood’s on your hands.

So, like the doomsday preppers on the History Channel, I recommend you stock an emergency kit for that fateful day. In it, include a Polaroid camera for instant shots of your cute work outfit that you can carry around and stick in your friend’s faces demanding to know if you’re pretty, two bottles of water (screaming your statusses from highway overpasses will really dry out your throat) and the phone number of the last good friend you saw in person.

I assume it was in third grade, she may have gained some weight since then.

Good luck in the E-pocalypse.