"Who Am I Stalking?" Saturday...
Post the Color of Your Bra in Support of Breast Cancer Awareness, or Technicolor Boobs, or the American Foundation Garment Foundation of America...
Virtual gift swaps, and Which Teletubby Would You Be If You Were Creepy and Mono-syllabic quizzes... And Post the Fruit You Most Resemble Weeks and... I don't know... Photograph Your Favorite Fish Day...
It seems the more the social media wants me to do something, the less I want to participate.
I clearly have Social Media Contrarianism.
And I feel guilty about it... I really do... because my online friends are a great bunch of people. Folks I love reading, exchanging ideas with, and getting glimpses into their lives.
But I don't also need to glimpse into their underpants. Especially en masse. There are some things best left to the imagination.
Plus, it's the marketer in the back of my mind (well, maybe not the back, more of the frontal lobe region) that keeps whispering how all of these Facebook apps are not-so-subtlely based on some never-ending cycle of reciprocity that isn't about us at all.
I give you a Farmville cow, you give me crap... er, fertilizer... fertilizer for my fields.
You demonstrate your loyalty to my mafia family by a well-executed hit, I "Make" your little brother Vinnie.
I buy you virtual mockingbird, you buy me a virtual diamond ring.
Until suddenly, we're drowning in this giant time-suck whirlpool. Virtual cows swim by. And virtual Auntie Ems. And when we look around us, the only one who ends up with anything tangible to show for it is Facebook, who just waved six extra hours of ads for whiter teeth in front of our eyeballs.
So my Facebook Event Invitations pile up like the snow on my car.
And Twitter FollowFridays are left unstalked.
Open Houses in the Farmville real estate market will not find me attending, inspecting potential property investments or enjoying the virtual hors d'oevres.
Perhaps I'm missing out. Perhaps I'm a bad virtual friend. But I'd like to think these same folks know they could count on me if they needed something for real. Something that mattered.
Something that didn't mean active involvement in pixelated livestock hoarding.