I'm a Facebook widower

Hi, my name is Dale and I'm a Facebook widower. My wife just discovered Facebook this week and I discovered, like the Omega Man, that I'm the last person on the planet who hasn't yet been infected. But I'm looking for other survivors.

A friend of mine has called it "porn for women." A friend of my wife's has called it "face crack." (Not quite as catchy as "crackberry" but makes the same point.) My wife has conceded how addictive it is. In fact, she learned this morning, at a Bible study, that all the women were having similar "conversations" with their husbands that she and I are having about the "virtues" of Facebook.

I, of course, see the immediate interest in it. The chance to find out about friends or schoolmates that you haven't seen or heard from in one or two decades is attractive to almost everyone. To be able to share a prayer request quickly is also a draw. I get all of that. But do I really need to know what Sally is cooking for dinner that night or how Harry's workout went that morning? And how many hours will that require me to stay logged on to keep up with all the ongoing conversations?

Oh yes, I said "Harry." I have learned that there are traitors in our midst. There are plenty of men on Facebook as well.

I'm a dinosaur...I know. With the exception of this blog, I'm about a decade behind the times in most areas of life (and rumor has it that blogs are on the way out. With twitter and Facebook forms of communication, is it possible for the American attention span to get any shorter?)

The sad news is that fighting this is a losing proposition. It's here to stay in my house. The sadder news is that I'll probably have my own Facebook page within a month.

Coveting Your Prayers,
Dale