
As my loyal readers may know, I rejoined the bizarro-world better known as Facebook after a year away. I went back for one reason only – to drum up some readers for my dopey blog posts. At the time, it seemed a small price to pay for my own perception of popularity.
Many people will admit to a bit of sentimentality when it comes to catching up with friends on Facebook, I have to confess that it’s been stirring up a very specific piece of nostalgia for me (Cue the time-travel music and wavy-screen effect).
It was the carefree days of my freshman year in college. The rigors of high school and oft-embarrassing life history of my hometown were behind me. I was a whole state away from those ancient gaffs. My slate was clean and I was making the most of it.
I’d chat up some little cutie from the dining hall, and before too long, I’d be hanging around in her dorm room. Her pleasant-but-dumpy room mate would be there as well. While my amorous intentions were held in check by the presence of Mandy or Becky or whatever the hell her roomie’s name was, I would look around the dorm room, sizing the place up, hoping to spot some clues which might come in handy later if whatsername ever left.
There were two staples in any of these freshman girls’ dorm rooms;
The first was a prom picture of the girl in her gown holding a corsage with some dude in a powder blue tuxedo. The size and display of the photo spoke volumes. The bigger the photo, the more likely she was still carrying a torch for him. If it was in a massive Rococo frame surrounded by a semi-circle of votive candles, that would usually be an even worse sign. If, on subsequent visits to the room, you noticed that the picture was missing or face down on the dresser, things were looking better. If on a later visit still, you noticed that she had cut him out of the picture or somehow mutilated his image, that was even better. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to keep any photo mutilation in mind for the future in case things with this young lady actually proceeded into some sort of relationship. Knives and razor blades in the hands of a scorned college coed can be hazardous to one’s health. Still on the topic of one’s health, another good use of the prom photo was for reconnaissance, in case her knucklehead date turns out to be the possessive type and comes to visit some weekend, it was probably a good idea to know what this former all-county linebacker looked like.

(pic from piclab.com)
The other mandatory feature in all of these dorm rooms were the schmaltzy posters hung on the rather institutional walls. There were two posters which seemed to be on nearly every freshman girl’s dormitory wall. The first had a kitten on it, clinging to a span of clothesline with the words “Hang in there, baby!” in jaunty letters somewhere on the image. The second poster would have some saccharin sweet image of a mountain sunset or a horse and foal, with the words “If you love something set it free, if comes back to you, blah blah blah” (I’ve finally managed to forget the exact quote, so “blah, blah, blah” is kind of nice for me). As for clues, these posters told me next to nothing. The kitten poster was there because the girl liked kittens or because she needed an emotional boost to help her get through those tricky freshman courses for Elementary Ed majors. The “If you love something, set it free..” poster may have been there for any number of reasons. It could reflect a deep, philosophical stance on love’s fleeting nature, or a taste for sunsets and horses with the sappy quote as a mere afterthought.
In any case, they bothered me. Unlike the prom portraits, the posters had no redeeming value. To be frank, once you’ve seen one kitten dangling from a clothesline, you’ve pretty much seen ’em all. If there was any doubt as to the worthless quality of these posters, all one had to do was look at the dorm rooms of these same girls as sophomores. There were typically no traces of these sickly-sweet bits of visual noise.
As the years marched on and I moved into what I like to refer to as the post-college-freshman-phase of my life, I have been blissfully spared those horrible posters. I don’t mean to imply that my life is without schmaltzy sentimentality. The hollow sweet phrases are still there, usually sold for 2 or 3 dollars with color coordinated envelopes from Hallmark and other purveyors of prepackaged emotional kitsch.
For the record, I don’t mind receiving a greeting card, especially if the sender writes something other than their name inside it. There is something which borders on insulting when someone sends me a greeting card and only signs it. It’s as if they’re saying “I have incredible fondness for you and wanted to take a moment to let you know just how much I care about you on the special occasion of your birthday / death of your uncle / recovery from same-day surgery / loss of your job. Luckily, the folks who make greeting cards wrote this particular one and it captures all of my emotions just so. All I had to do was pay for the card at the counter and put the old John Hancock on it. Thanks Hallmark! P.S. I hope you can read my signature, I signed it in the car at a red light.”
Apparently Facebook has some kind of massive photo album of inspirational Hallmark-ish quotes. They come in a wide variety of fonts and colors. The quotes cover every emotion known to man (OK, every emotion known to woman and more than every emotion known to man). A person needs only find the quote of their choice and click on it, and it will show up next to their name. Other people, who are apparently even lazier than the original virtual-Hallmark poster, can then “like” the original poster’s post of an actual writer’s quote. It’s quite convenient to be able to post your emotions by just clicking on an image of a dorm poster (Certainly it’s less labor intensive than, say, writing a massive blog post, then revising it, editing it and then hitting “publish” and regretting it).
Unfortunately, like everything else on Facebook, some people feel the need to overdo it. I have several “friends” on there who regularly who post dozens of these little posters of deep-thoughts every day. It’s like they have an all-you-can eat pass from the dorm poster store. I can barely keep track of how my other friend’s quest for magic unicorn eggs in Castleville is going without these cloying posters popping up every 30 seconds. The implied “cleverness” of the person who posted it is also kind of annoying, as they didn’t actually do much more than browse at a virtual card shop and click a key on a laptop. Friends then “like” the little quote as if the person who clicked first had some sort of creative stake in the process. The fact that this person clicks on more posters in a given day than most people even have time to read gives a more accurate reflection of how little they actually put into it.
So, after decades of not having seen kittens-in-peril posters, I’m now inundated with a new generation of feel good, pep-talks on people’s walls. The difference is that now, I never even asked to hang out in their stupid dorm rooms in the first place.
Id rather someone have me a note on a napkin than a greeting card. And gift cards… Don’t even get me started on the gift cards.
Actually, I do some of my best work on little square cocktail napkins. I don’t mind gift cards if they’re to the right stores…and for plenty of money.
By the way, I have a related follow up to this post, but want to wait a few days before I run it up the flagpole. Keep your eyes peeled, boys and girls!
You’re a regular C. Auguste Dupin
Thanks to Google, I only had to feel like an idiot for a minute or so while I looked up who the hell Dupin is.
What else am I going to do with all this useless knowledge?
Your post taught me two things:
1) What I missed out on in college by working almost full-time and living off campus in a crappy, but blessedly roommate-free apartment. And…
2) I’m in no hurry to get on Facebook.
And for the record, I never had a single kitty poster, though I’m not sure if that reflects positively or poorly on me…
Funny post!
You’re not like the other girls, are you?
No, I guess not. But someone married me anyway. 🙂
I’d meant that as a compliment
🙂
“You’re smart enough, you’re good enough, and gosh darn it, people like you!”
If you really felt that way about me, you’d vote for my entry in this weeks Byronic Man contest. I promise to vote for you if you make the cut and I don’t.
Good point! And I have done so–and also posted on my facebook page to get out the vote: http://www.facebook.com/fred.lenhoff
Thanks brudda…I’m gonna win that Byronic Man contest if it kills me.
I’m probably showing my age, but you nailed it–especially the powder blue tuxedo and the dorky roomate. And I agree totally about cute posters. This is the kind of poster I prefer for expressing my sentiments:
High praise indeed. My brother had the Dennis Hopper poster.
I’m laughing so hard because a) I agree with you heartily and b) it reminded me of the “Grandma’s Dead” brand of schmaltzy baby animals. If you haven’t seen them, you’ll appreciate them. When I was in college I had a bunch of posters of Rambo and The A-Team. Nobody wanted to be my friend. 😦
I don’t think the A-Team premiered until I was well into grad school, so I can’t vouch for what the frosh gals had in their dorm rooms in that era, but I’m guessing you were in the minority – decor wise(which is and was a good thing, in any era)
I commented on myself by putting a link into my last post to a different post of my own. Does this mean I can increase my readership numbers by linking myself to myself? It seems unethical, but I’ll bend the rules for perceived popularity.
Thanks for the praise.
This is great: ” P.S. I hope you can read my signature, I signed it in the car at a red light.”
When I don’t write something inside a card, it’s usually because they may not want to read what I really want to say.
I used to get cards with signatures from far away family members when I was feeling terribly alone on the opposite side of the country, and they would just sign their names. I eventually forgave them, but it took time to heal.
When I was young, I always wrote something personal. I’m sorry you had that experience but you handled it beautifully in your post.
Not to worry, it was just the in-laws…
🙂