A blog is meant to do what? Rant? Share epiphanies? Obligingly, I will accomplish both in this post.
The Rant: [The following is a descriptive telling narrated by the victim with near accurate recollection of the dialogue that ensued between identified parties.]
It was a dark Monday night when I logged onto Facebook. Whether it was to stalk someone or send a message escapes me. All I know is that the workday had been long, as usual, and I wanted a diversion. The instant my home page appeared, my top newsfeed item displayed a biggish picture of a little girl with fair skin, large eyes reminiscent of an animal or bird, and a head full of black hair with uneven bangs. She was holding a babe with quizzical eyebrows and the fattest cheeks. It was her baby brother! ... and the little girl with a bright yellow t-shirt was ME! Oh. My. Word. I had been betrayed by unknown reasons that would become apparent later that evening. Before I called the person responsible for posting, I threw my head back like the loveable villain Syndrome and laughed at the Navajo baby with the cheeks. Then I scrolled through my phone and dialed the number that belonged to the father of that boy and girl in the photo. If there was anyone who would sympathize with my thinking, it was surely the man who sided with Gene Simmons in being a social network skeptic.
Father: Hello?
Me: DAD! Guess what?! Your youngest son has posted a picture of my five-year-old self on FB!
Father: That goofball, why would he do that?
Me: Obviously to show off his cuteness. I just don’t understand why he had to show off mine too!
Father: Have you talked to him about it?
Me: Aargh! I need to make an outcry like a pirate because I'm caught between two emotions. I don't think I take FB too seriously, but sometimes I let it get the best of me for about five seconds. [In a slightly deflated voice I then whisper...] My five-year-old self would not have approved. [Suddenly, the invisible lightbulb that hovers atop my head switched on as I come to an exciting revelation.] Yes. Yes! That's the injustice of the act! Those pictures from my childhood are a personal catalog of who I am today. My strengths and weaknesses could be discerned from that type of information.
Father: So you're saying that people will discover your Kryptonite by viewing pictures of you as a kid?
Me: Yep. I knew this day would come. That sneaky boy.
The conversation quickly devolved to discuss an array of topics that bordered on the insensible and brilliant. The rant had passed and I could call that younger brother in peace.
The 'epiphanies' mentioned above can actually be distilled down to one: There is no denying, I was a cute kid. This admittance is the peeling away of one more layer around my onion frame of mind.
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