I left m prescription glasses in yesterday’s shirt pocket and seeing at work today and now after means focusing intently, trying to bring them to life, trying to understand them and succeeding barely. . .
I deleted eight Facebook friends today at work. I posted words to the effect that I would be deleting a few Facebook friends who had proven themselves “eminently forgettable.” I have nothing to gain by keeping them, hoping things improve because I do not believe they will. Criteria for Facebook friends are different from real friends. Some of those who remain are people I need to stay informed, to be entertained, to be courted for their good will to me and to my aviation museum and journalism. These people, like those whom I kept, whom I hope consider me a friend, are dreams who affect my day. Those I deleted were people I wanted to be close to, who promised small projects for writing or technical assistance that would help me EAT, who stopped communicating when it came time to deliver. How many people do you know who smile, engage in convivial repartee and walk away into the deafening void of silence? I know six. The other two were at one time Facebook friends I engaged happily years ago, from whom I have heard nothing since 2009 or so. I was told two people are not even on Facebook today. I hope they are alive and well.
In my first post of “Approaching 65″ I said I have many acquaintances and no friends. Someone wrote “To whom much is given, much is expected.” so I’m okay with the circumstance. I don’t have time for much lately. And I’m cutting back on activity away from the museum. My “friends” know how to reach me. They simply don’t have a reason. I know this because I have not had a reason in weeks for reaching them. That’s okay. I’m bringing a lot of this on myself; digging my own outcome, so to speak. That’s pretty grim for a fellow who considers himself an extrovert.
I have no expectations of acquaintances. They say that if you love someone, you put no chains on that love; no expectations. I disagree. If you love someone, the live of the person you love affects you more critically than the life of an acquaintance. Love comes from compromising great expectations. That’s why love is work . . . slogging through the doubts and insecurities precipitated by those who want to be close without being close enough to strangle the other with extreme expectations.
Show me an acquaintance, and I will show you someone who can do as he or she wants to do., Wendy wants a nose ring? GREAT! Go for it. My last love wants a nose ring? Here is a matter we need to discuss without malice and liquor to prevent embarrassing arrests when the police arrive.
I look forward to forgetting the six known Facebook friends I deleted today. For awhile I expect it will be like sitting on a chair, facing a plain corner of the room and NOT thinking, over the course of ten quiet minutes, about a white feather. Still it will be worth the effort to try.
Live long . . . . and proper.
I read #9. Hooray for me! I survived the cut.
The pull of the museum and of a conversation with you is getting stronger, Job.