Last Sunday I blogged about wellness problems that Liz and I are enduring right now. I informed a few friends about the blog post and two of them acknowledged it in emails.
Until today, I have never posted statuses in Facebook. Every now and then, when i sign a petition, I have it posted to Facebook. I have also used Facebook to send messages, for instance when the coroner called me to tell me that my brother Philip was found dead in his apartment, I used Facebook to get in touch with my nephew. But I have never before used Facebook to report on my status.
I have 111 Facebook friends. They fall into three (or four) categories. One group is my relatives, including my dead Uncle Chuck. Another is people I got to know when I began blogging in earnest a few (maybe six or seven) years ago. They range from June Butler (Grandmère Mimi,) a laywoman a year older than I to Toby Haller, a priest in the Diocese of New York; they are all Anglicans and all are gay or gay-friendly . A third group is people I know either from Morningside Gardens or other contexts. The fourth group is people I know from my 55 years at St. Mary's Manhattanville. (Forgive me, I'm speaking [that is, writing] impressionistically here, because obviously with only 111 people, I could figure out my connection to each of them. But that is not the point of this post.)
Facebook sends me emails that say that 5 friends have posted updates. I used to click on them all the time. My cousin Leslie posts Bible verses; Ken Arnold, an erstwhile deacon at St. Mary's, posts updates on his serious health issues; and several people post links to their blogs.
Today, I posted an update on Facebook on Liz's and my health issues. As of now, I have received comments from two cousins, a St. Mary's friend, a Morningside Gardens friend, and my brother-in-law. There's something to be said for Facebook.
The price of liberty, or libertines
2 days ago