All of us on our Facebook network made it to this morning, December 26, 2013. That all includes my college buddies from the Class of 1967: Lee Harrison, Charlotte Toal, Irene Nunn, Kathleen Huebner and outlier Anne Desmond (who is spiritually on Facebook but has yet to friend us officially). Left is Lee who got us Baby Boomers into the Facebook habit and after who I named my adopted dog.
None of us jumped off the bridges in our area or which we drove miles to get to.
None got carted off to jail and our car towed because of a DUI.
None held our family or strangers hostage with a gun.
And some, at least according to postings and likes even enjoyed the season.
My hunch is that it was staying close to each other on Facebook which got us through. In fact, when I popped open my eyes yesterday I immediately got on Facebook, checking for comments and likes. As soon as I got back online from whatever I was back on Facebook. After walking dog Lee K. I returned to Facebook. Call it Putting Ourselves in Protective Custody.
Isolation emotionally maimes, sometimes even kills. In school and on the job you tend to keep making new friends. As Baby Boomers those social routes are closed. Although three of us on our network are still working, it's self-employment. You swing by to pitch to the prospect and consult with the client and that's that. It's in and out. And in these volatile economic times no one wants to invest in relationships with vendors.
If there is to be less carnage on the roads on New Year's Eve, perhaps the powers-that-be should put out there public service announcements about friending someone, anyone on Facebook. Make that ritual of posting, commenting and liking count. There will be no inner push to isolate through becoming very drunk. Alcoholism is the disease which tells you to be alone.