Friend Me!

     Like a lot of you, every morning I wake up and check Facebook to find out all the fabulous things other people are doing without me.  I only have 239 friends and most of them don't post anything, but this morning there were some pictures of the first day of school, a few family vacations, and notification of a birthday.  This is a big improvement over the usual political messages and cat pictures.
     The main reason I check Facebook is to scroll for news of my children.  I see my son's name under the heading Find Mutual Friends. It says, "Jesse Solomon recently added 83 friends.  Do you know any of them?"
     Why um, no, I don't, as a matter of fact. And 83? Seriously?
     There are a couple issues here.
     First, for the record, I used to know all of Jesse's friends.  I knew their parents.  I knew where they lived, if their mother worked outside the home, and if they had any food allergies.  Hell, I knew if they had a gun in the house.
     I realize that was a long time ago, and since Jesse went away to college, I know a lot less.  Over the summer when he was in Europe, sometimes I did not know what country he was in, let alone who he was with. This is what happens when your kids grow up.
     He just went back to school, and I felt a little bad about his send off.  When he left for college his freshman year, both my husband and I flew down to move him into his dorm.  We met his roommate, and unpacked his belongings, and made his bed.  Sophomore year, I went without my husband to buy my son a bed and dresser, and stock the fridge in his new apartment.  This year we kissed him goodbye at the Departure door at O'Hare.
     But come on, the kid had 83 new friends waiting for him at the other end.  I'm not feeling quite so bad.
    I cannot imagine the circumstances under which I could make 83 new friends.  Of course my son and I have a different definition of friendship, and a Facebook friend is not necessarily a real life friend.  But still, I get the feeling that the other 54-year-olds in my neighborhood are not looking to make new pals.  I don't even know how to meet 83 potential friends---maybe I could stand outside of Chico's and hand out bars of dark chocolate.
     Most people my age can barely keep up with the friends they have.  Unless (and this would be really depressing) you are all out there making friends with each other, but don't want to be friends with me. After all, I'm a fundraiser and a writer.  Most of you either give money to my charities or cross to the other side of the street when you see me.  Maybe you are worried I'm going to ask for money and then write about you.  But I would never do that.
     Well, maybe I would.  But I would never use your real name.  Call me.