What annoys me about people in their (late-late) 40s is how much drama they kick up on Facebook.
I remember, back in the day, when social media was for the kids. When people started joining MySpace in the early part of the century, practically nobody in my peer group was on it. Unless they wanted to monitor their kids, or were in a band or something.
But then Facebook reared its elegant, blue-and-white head. And Generation X was quick to jump on it, probably because it made it so easy to reconnect with family members, old coworkers, classmates, exes.
But come on. We were well into our 30s before most of us joined. Firmly entrenched in the adult world. We grew up well before social media became a ubiquitous, and you’d think grown adults would realize Facebook is good for a smile, a few laughs, nothing to take too seriously.
People of my generation are horrible when it comes to things like vaguebooking, mass defriending — and then gossiping about the defriending — and over-sharing everything, especially their tiresome middle-aged medical problems.
They also have no problem posting embarrassing photos and stories about their kids. I used to be guilty of this until I tried to put myself in these kids’ shoes. Now a few photos and stories are fine, but oversharing “funny” anecdotes about puberty and hissy fits, not cool. I cringe for these youth, and feel immensely grateful that I didn’t grow up under the spotlight of social media.
Then there is the bragging. Again, a bit of showing off is fine, but some people my age use Facebook as a filmstrip, endlessly running images of their picture-perfect lives. The vacations they take. Their midlife-crisis cars. The seared Chilean sea bass and white wine they order while “eating dinner with beloved family” at restaurants with dazzling views and crappy food.
And the selfies! I love a good selfie, but not when so many filters have been applied that the person looks like a wax effigy. Middle-aged women, I’m looking at you, though plenty of men indulge in wanton Photoshopping, too. And then some have the nerve to humblebrag about it. “This is what 46 looks like,” one friend commented on her birthday. Sure, 46 layers of blur and shading.
To be fair, hardly any 40-somethings do duckface, thank god. But many give Kim Kardashian a run for her money.
Some of these people, myself included, are old enough to join AARP. But give them a Facebook account and they turn into 14-year-old drama queens.