Profundity isn't all it's cracked up to be. I realized this when I started becoming involved with Facebook. Suffice it to say it took me years to take the Facebook plunge; not particularly surprising since I habitually lag behind popular fads. (Want proof? I got a "Princess Di" haircut in 2004.)
Eventually, I gave in to the inevitable. My husband, Bob, was on Facebook, along with my daughter Val, my son Buddy, my sister Debi, and pretty much all my relatives and friends. Yes, it was clearly time to take the plunge. I dived in, only to discover I didn't know what to say.
It occurs to me that folks on Facebook fit into niches.
There are the political people who use this form of media to promote a host of issues and agendas, conservative and liberal. There are the Pollyannas who post mushy poetry, pictures of little cartoon children with freakishly large eyes, images of puppies and kittens in adorable poses, and mawkish sayings redolent with enough sappy sentimentalism to choke the puppies and kittens.
There are braggarts who write endlessly about their accomplishments from running marathons to losing weight. There are angry rebels who apparently use the forum to vent. (It's less expensive than therapy.)
Perhaps the most fascinating people in the Facebook universe are the folks with the running commentaries. You know the ones.
They spend the day telling everyone what they're doing, convinced we'll find it fascinating.
For example, an acquaintance of mine is a fish fancier. She erroneously assumes everybody else is, too. In the course of a typical day, "Barbara" posts entries like, "Mucked out the koi pond this morning. Got really sweaty. Went inside and had a glass of iced tea." Then, a few hours later, "Put new fish in pond. Still hot. Time for more iced tea." That evening, "New fish getting along well with original fish. Might add one more if I can get a good deal. Might not. I'll keep you posted."
Here's where profundity (or lack thereof) enters in.
As a Facebook novice, not being overly political, mushy or hostile, I decided to rise above the inanity of my fellow Facebookians and post profound comments. (It wasn't as easy as I thought it would be.)
Despite my best efforts, I found myself posting little gems like, "Had fun tonight watching reruns of 'Columbo' on cable TV. Wonder why Peter Falk always wore that raincoat." Then there's my personal favorite, "Took a long nap this evening. Woke up at 11 p.m. and realized there was laundry to do. Did laundry, then spent an hour ironing. Wish I'd stayed in bed."
When you get right down to it, the one thing everyone needs to know (on Facebook and otherwise) is that Jesus died for them, and if they believe on Him they'll have eternal life. (Now that's profound.)