This column has been in the making for a week or so, but I finally had a bit of time this evening. I’m sure one or two English Majors will turn me over to the “Grammar Police” for this piece, but I’m just a simple village undertaker, not a stickler for gramatical rules.
Back in Novemeber, I wrote Never Say Never. It was a brief column about how I was finally tip-toing into the world of FaceBook at age 55.
A week and a half later, I penned, Reversing Course, discussing how I was pulling the plug, with resultant applause from several, blogging buddies.
Well, I have not pulled the plug. I don’t put anything on FB aside from the blog posts and I’m pretty sure you will never see a picture of my wife and I dining at a restuarant or socializing with celebrities. Some folks like that, but I don’t get it, nor am I interested.
I would guess that I spend between 3-5 minutes a day scrolling through the lives of “friends”. 
For me, FB has been like sipping a big mug of hot chocolate on a cold Winter’s day. I have seen pictures of the children of kids I babysat when I was a teenager; pictures of the grandchildren of cousins that I haven’t seen in 30 years because we live at opposite ends of the Country; Friends of my parents, whose kids I grew up with; I have messaged back and forth with Andy Furlong, who was my “Small Electric Appliance Repair” teacher in 1977, when I was a junior at Watchung Hills regional High School High School; Men who were police officers when my dad was Chief of Police, kids I played with in the neighborhood when we were in grade school, (we actually played outside for hours and hours at a time,); guys I worked with at Aiken Public Safety for twelve years and other emergency services types, including folks I worked with at the Overlook Hospital MICU back in the early 1980’s; college friends and professors who I haven’t seen in over thirty five years, but all their names remind me of a time we did something together or a story I recall about them. . . and I smile.
So, for now, I will stay, try to cut through the clutter and ask the question, Whose Window Today?
A Simple, Village Undertaker 