A while back I saw a ‘man in the street’ interview on TV, and they were asking people what they thought of social networking. One twenty-something thought it was great, but that he didn’t think a fifty year old should have an active Facebook profile. Now, the bone through his nose was one indication that this young man’s judgment was not to be trusted, but still, it made an impact. Am I really too old for Facebook? Is fifty the age when you are officially ‘too old’?

Now, I’m by no means a Facebook fanatic; I’m not constantly updating my status, or commenting on the status of others. But I do enjoy checking in with people now and then, and see what they are up to. But now that I know that I’m too old, I can’t seem to look at pictures of my friends kids with the same unabashed joy. Now that I know that I’m too old, it just feels…dirty.

I never really wanted to be on Facebook in the first place. It was HIM; my other half-the love of my life! He did this to me, with all his ‘interneting’ and ‘world wide webbing’, and his boasting of how many “friends” he had. And when I looked at his friend list, I saw that most of those friends were mine! At least I had them first. They may like him better now, but they liked me first. That’s why fifty year olds have Facebook profiles-revenge; pure and simple!

I’ve never been shy of new technology; in fact, I’ve always considered myself quite “hip”. Would it surprise anyone who knows me that I was the ONLY one in my graduating class to wear a mint green leisure suit to our graduation ceremony? I think not! When something new comes my way, I don’t run screaming from the room, yelling “Witchcraft!” like some extra in a Monty Python movie. I embrace it; become one with it.

One of the best things I've found about Facebook is getting re-acquainted with old friends. I recently met up with an old college chum through Facebook. We invited her to brunch during one of our weekend getaways near where she lives, and thouroughly enjoyed our time together.   We laughed, we cried, we regaled each other with tales of the Boer Wars, and went our separate ways, confident in the knowledge that at one time-one point in history-we were not too old for anything.

So I’ll stay on Facebook, and let the youngster’s text and tweet, and search for the next big thing. I’ll enjoy my small circle of friends, and try to make room for all those ‘li’l green plants’ that everyone keeps sending me. I mean, they never actually arrive, but I know my friends. They probably just got lost in the mail…