Can they ever leave well-enough alone?

My wife opened her Facebook the other night (Wednesday, September 21, 2011):
“Oh dread,” she said. “They’re at it again.”
I received an e-mail from Facebook the other day: “We're trying out a new feature to reduce the amount of email you receive from Facebook. Starting today, we are turning off most individual email notifications and instead, we'll send you a summary only if there are popular stories you may have missed.”
“Huh?” I said.
“What constitutes a ‘popular story?’ What’s going on behind the scenes?
Can they ever leave well-enough alone?“
I have a Facebook myself, but only because of a fast-one on their part.
I got an e-mail from Facebook regarding an old friend who wanted the “friend” me.
Okay, but “to become a ‘friend’ you must have a Facebook of your own.”
So be it. —I opened a Facebook little knowing what was happening.
“Welcome to Facebook, Grady,” said another old friend I once worked with at the Mighty Mezz.
And so began my torturous relationship with Facebook. That was at least three years ago, maybe four.
I don’t pay much attention to it anymore, perhaps every three weeks or so.
I open it with great fear and trepidation; it has frozen this computer at least twice, perhaps three times.
I’ve been tempted to dump it, but haven’t. Too many of my friends use Facebook to maintain contact.
I have about 89 bazilyun “friend” requests, but I gave up responding some time ago.
“Friend” someone, and never hear from them again.
Or if you do, it’s “burp, fart, or ‘you go girl.’”
And “Congrats to all.”
Facebook also has a character-limit, anathema to a word-generator like me.
Heaven-forbid I spell out a word, like “to” instead of “2.” “Too many characters, naughty-naughty!”
Studied consideration and reason seem verboten; they trample the character-limit.
Another reason I avoid Facebook is because it’s slightly different every time I open it.
I have to blow 20 minutes just figuring out how to drive it.
Which presents the pretense for this blog.
My wife opens her Facebook, and it presents a message about changing things yet again.
Uh-ohhh, here we go again!
Plus I get the e-mail message about Facebook e-mails.
(A Facebook e-mail about reducing Facebook e-mails?)
“NOW WHAT? Can they ever leave well-enough alone?”
If anything I’d say this change is favorable.
Stop the gigantic torrent of useless blathering you have to pore through, which I rarely look at anyway.
Reprehensible! Friends are putting their thoughts and lives on Facebook, and I’m not listening.
Although I’m sure there’s an angle in it somewhere, something to pad Zuckerberg’s pants-pocket.
That’s Mark Zuckerberg, founder and CEO of Facebook.
A friend I graduated college with calls him “Suckerberg......”
My Facebook is showering me with paid ads regarding model trains and AARP home financing, probably because I noted I was a railfan, and my age. (Model-trains are not the real thing.)
My college friend doesn’t have a Facebook.
He abhors it, saying one-or-two friends is enough, not 5,000, or whatever it is.

• The “Mighty Mezz” is the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper, from where I retired over five years ago. Best job I ever had — I worked there almost 10 years. (“Canandaigua” [“cannan-DAY-gwuh”] is a small city nearby where we live in Western NY. The city is also within a rural town called “Canandaigua.” The name is Indian, and means “Chosen Spot.” —It’s about 14 miles away.)
• “Grady” was my nickname at the Messenger newspaper. See blurb at right.