My metamorphosis is now complete! Not only have I become a compulsive blogger over these last months, but I have also finally decided to throw all notions of a secluded and isolated old age pottering around my 'potager' to the wind. My initial paranoia about privacy has turned into an amazing sense of liberation. Methinks, as well, that I have Twitter in my sights, despite the inevitable limitations on one's pretentiousness, creativity and poetic licence with a measly 140 characters! The world really is becoming a smaller place by the minute.
If people keep talking to each other, they are less likely to blow a gasket and hit each other, that's for sure. Whole family networks can be maintained with a quick posting on a 'wall', and everybody is happy to know that they are part of one big virtual happy family. It's so much better than the real thing in so many ways, because you don't have to fight for the bathroom, argue over the washing up, or sulk because one of your number nicked the last yoghurt that you had carefully positioned in the fridge behind the confitures and old pots of honey.
In the last 48 hours, since I signed up on Facebook, I have been amazed that not one of my many nieces and nephews has rejected me as a 'friend'. All I can say is that they must have total confidence in my broadmindedness, or else they know so much more about the technology than I do and can successfully hide or edit out any references to sex, drugs and rock and roll. My devoutly Catholic Irish mother would have grounded me for months had she worked out that my secret diary was hidden behind an air brick. Now, my own Catholic guilt has the reverse effect, for I cannot bring myself to overly intrude into the very precious private lives of my young relatives.
I am flattered that they show such a high degree of trust in me. It makes organising 'Noel' so much easier, when there will be 19 of us at Bardies. These semi- virtual friendships will be put to the test then, that's for sure, but Christmas 'en famille' in our rambling old chateau will be a first. The Heidlberg and Chiswick contingents are used to our ways, but the San Franciscans will have to cope with the double whammy of jet lag and traditional French Christmas fayre. No turkey this Christmas, I'm afraid. We're going for a brace of capons and a 'buche de Noel', and all objections will be smartly over ruled!
The kids are all excited and have been communicating endlessly with each other, I am told. Facebook really is amazing. Sophie, one of my nieces in Germany, immediately sent me a message saying, "Welcome, Auntie, to this amaaaaazing communication system", and that perfectly sums it up. I would never in a million years have bothered to email each of them, so I'm seeing at first hand just how effective it is. It makes the daunting prospect of all the preparations so much more enjoyable for everyone, when we each have a vested interest in the whole project.
The only person who is missing out is Grandma, which is sad because she is the person that we are all doing it for. She is a hugely entertaining and lively 85 year old, but despite being an ex-teacher and brilliant mathematician, she remains one of the many members of her generation who has failed to embrace new technology. It would be such a wonderful thing for her to be able to communicate with all her grandchildren, and we are all at a loss as to understanding why such an intelligent woman has run shy of such a life changing opportunity. We have offered to buy her a computer, set it up and coach her in its applications, all, to date, to no avail.
I have puzzled much over this conundrum. Why is it that older people run so scared of the internet? Is it the fear of failure? Surely not, especially when I know that my mother-in-law could out think and out perform many youngsters a quarter of her age. Is it that life already seems to go so fast for them, they just don't feel that they have enough time to invest in something so new and all-absorbing? Is it because they fear exposure to 'sharks' and 'shisters', made even more terrifying by tabloid horror stories? Is it because they wish to protect their privacy from prying eyes, a throwback from the war years for so many of them? Is it a gender issue, I wonder, with so many elderly widowed women convinced that technical matters are somehow not for them? I wish I knew the answer, because it is a real issue that we must address urgently, for ever-increasing life expectancy threatens to isolate this generation even further.
We know that communication is the essence of being human. I don't buy into the notion that Facebook is bad, per se, or that the new so-called 'Facebook generation' are inarticulate idiots. I know many, many young people [and I'm proud to say that quite a few of them have just accepted me as a 'friend'!] and they all seem to me to be better communicators than we ever were. After we'd done our homework, we used to flop in front of the TV or read racy books by Dennis Wheatley to alleviate the interminable boredom of termtime evenings. Sunday afternoons, with shops closed, churches open and friends grounded, was a weekly nightmare only to be escaped by talk of sharing homework with a friend.
Today's youngsters, in contrast, are planning everything, from their next party to changing the world on Facebook. Good on them! They are reading and writing too, and if writing is essentially about communication, then they will learn these skills prettily speedily on Facebook, or face a blank 'wall'. We moan that youngsters are apolitical, because they have no faith in our devalued party political system, but fail to see that they are highly motivated when driven by single, relevant issues. When they want to do something, they reach more people with a single posting than any party political broadcast could ever hope to do.
They have a lot to teach us, and we need to listen to them more, not less. In the meantime, I shall treasure my young Facebook friends, and indeed the older ones too. They can come and see us at Bardies anytime. After all, it's so much easier to organise now.
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