On ruminatin’

—A few days ago Yr Fthfl Srvnt “friended” Facebook “friend” #59.
I thought she was #61, but I don’t do much with Facebook; I don’t have 89-bazilyun “friends.”
Never in my entire life have I met this lady. She’s Class of ’68 at my college; I’m Class of ’66.
She’s Facebook “friends” with another Class of ’68 grad with whom I happen to be “friends.”
She also Facebook “messaged” me back in 2009 about whether I was the brother of someone she thought the world of. That would be my sister, who only did two years at my college, also Class of ’68. That sister is gone.
Somehow I noticed my other FB “friend” was “friends” with this lady.
“That name sounds familiar,” I said to myself. There in my Facebook “messages” was her 2009 message-string.
She’s a writer, although far different than what I do.
She’s more reflective and contemplative, although I perceive similarities.
She also writes poetry, and I don’t.
We also are worlds apart. She’s a believer, and I’m not.
I never understand Facebook. Things go on in the background I have no clue about.
I also don’t care.
Every time I fire up Facebook it’s different. SuckerBird and his cronies never announce changes.
I’m told a secret algorithm limits the “friend” posts I see.
It runs all the posts of an old newspaper coworker, plus the posts of another “friend,” if she didn’t limit viewers (????).
This laptop displays nine “friend” profile-pictures — my iPhone displays six.
(They fire up that “friend’s” profile-page.)
On my laptop, ninth was that limiter. (If that’s what she’s doing — who knows!)
Suddenly my new Facebook “friend” became first of my nine profile-pictures, and my limiter got zapped.
Okay, but that means I gotta scroll my entire “friends” list to find that “friend.” Also okay, but her page was the one I most visited.
She and I are also worlds apart, but often she posts something worth reading.
Of my other 9/6 “friends” there were those I look at occasionally. But there also are three I never look at.
Perhaps my 9/6 are most recent. But one is eons ago; yet she’s #7 of the nine.
Whither? I have another “friend” out in Californy who bewails the insanity of Facebook.
Another “friend” in Washington state bewails Facebook’s dreaded algorithm.
So what’s all this coming to? No idea, except it seems I gained a writer friend. Or one who, like me, lives in a world of her own.
She posts a lot of her poetry on Facebook. I’ve read some of it. Some dude does something for her, and it becomes a poem.
This is what happens to me. I cogitate some inconsequential event, then write about it. I also celebrate the passing of my childhood, and 70 years late.
“NO PRETTY LADY WILL TALK TO YOU!” Yet many do.
It comes naturally = make ‘em laugh!

• “My college” is Houghton College (“HO-tin;” as in “oh,” not “how” or “who”) in western New York, from where I graduated with a BA in 1966. I never regretted it, although I graduated a Ne’er-do-Well, without their blessing. Houghton is an evangelical liberal-arts college, and was the first religious institution to not consider me rebellious and of-the-Devil = a threat.
• A “believer” is one who believes God exists. Atheists emphatically believe God doesn’t exist — I’m not atheist. I’m more agnostic, one who doesn’t know whether God (He/She/It/whatever) exists.
• “SuckerBird” is Mark Zuckerberg, founder and head-honcho of Facebook.
• All-of-a-sudden my “limiter” is back into my nine profile-pictures. GO FIGGER!