Coincidence … Meaningful? (part 1)

I joined Facebook about 18 months ago.   Mostly because a client in the online space hassled me to do it.  Okay, who am I fooling, it’s the only reason I did it.  Once on, of course, I became addicted. (who doesn’t)

I looked up my college class and saw a bunch of names, most I didn’t recognize.  For kicks, I looked up my high school class, but didn’t expect to find anyone.  I didn’t.  Class of what, 120, 150? From small town in Northeast Ohio.  Now all in our late 30’s, probably most with kids and mortgages (and all the responsibilities and worries).  In short, not what I think of when I try to picture the Facebook demographic.

A few weeks later, I got a friend request from someone I knew in high school.  It was actually quite exciting. Someone I remembered, and if I recall, someone I liked.  He sent me a nice note about his adventures of the last 20 years, and I did the same.  Fun. Cool.  Interesting.

Dave was the first, and then over the months, I got a trickle of requests.  I accepted all of them, of course (as long as I could remembered who they were or remembered something about them).   I looked at my high school “friends” pages to find others and friended them.

Along the way, I might have accidentally offended a friend or two – why do women change their names?  I don’t know Monica B., but I know Monica K.  She was one of my best friends as a little girl.  Oh well.  I figured it out eventually.

Question:  Will there come a point when I don’t accept every friend request from class of 1988?  I mean, I don’t even remember who I didn’t like back then.  Knowing me, I ‘m sure there was a list (teen angst and all).  It just all seems so long ago, so far away.  Looking back, we shared something.  That means something.  I just hope I was nice to my high school Facebook “friends.”

I checked today.  Exactly 10 of us from the class of 1988 are on Facebook.  Interesting.

More interesting, both my friends from grade school are on there.  Three of the 10 of us.  Monica, Lissa and I pretty much spent half of our days every morning of every school day together from the time we were six to the time we were 11.  I haven’t seen either in 20 years, and I haven’t had a meaningful conversation with either (does one have meaningful conversations at age 10 or 11, I mean, sure about Rick Springfield or clothes or movies, but really …?) in what, 25 years, almost 30 years?

Yet all this time later, we still share something:  “early” adoption of Facebook.

I feel validated.  I’m not sure why.

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