“Hi Ken.” Those were the two shocking words that greeted me when I opened my Facebook page recently.
“What do you mean, “Hi Ken,” my startled self asked? With no human being within hearing range there was no chance for an answer. Where do you see anyone named “Ken? There is not now, nor has there ever been a “Ken” around here. I am “Ronnie.” Facebook has always been so warm and welcoming when I opened my Facebook page and saw the friendly greeting, “Hi Ronnie.” What has changed?
Could it possibly be that I am now known as Ken: no longer Ronnie? How could this happen? Can Tech Support help me get back to normal?
Has my real identity been changed by Facebook? Is this a case of identity theft? Should I contact the FBI or the CIA for help or clarification?
Who else will start calling me Ken? Maybe I’d better check with the bank and find out whether I can still write checks and pay bills. Or maybe Ken would like to pay my bills and write checks to cover expenses. That’s the least he can do for stealing my identity. But if I am not real I wonder if Ken is.
To be thorough I should check my drivers’ license to be sure I can still legally drive. I am beginning to have more respect for Franz Kafka. who in his book, “The Trial” introduces a man who loses his identity without the help of Facebook. Find out the origin of his mistake, you say? Great advice; good thinking. Except for one minor problem. Facebook offers no tech support, offers no complaint department, and lists no telephone numbers. They don’t even have an email address that they’re willing to share. I am evidently who they say I am, not who I say I am, because there is no one to question their records and nowhere that I can turn for help.
Facebook can take away my name and assign it to anyone they choose. Pretty clever of them to change me into Ken. A man can easily be called Ronnie and still be recognized as a man by any clerk or record keeper.
Why do I have a Facebook page in the first place? How did I get involved with this sleazy, identity changing organization?
Friends told me that becoming a Facebook member was the best way to stay in touch with my grandchildren and learn what they’re up to. Reading grandchildren’s Facebook pages reveals the teams they cheer for, the shows they watch and he classes they flop or soar in. They use Facebook as a diary and a confidante. Facebook gives me ideas of what subjects to raise with them. But having this information is not worth losing my identity for!
Back on my computer Facebook is goading me on by sending me encouraging messages such as,”Become friends with Ken’s friends.”
But if I am supposed to be Ken, these friends of his are already my friends.
What if a message for me goes to Ken? What if a message for Ken comes to me? The complexities of this problem seem to grow by the minute. I am a loss; I don’t know what to do.
Tossing out the computer is an incredibly appealing idea. Forgetting I ever heard of technological advances is even more appealing. But if I don’t have a computer any more, do I really want to resume cursive writing? The only use I have for cursive writing now is for writing and signing checks.
If I no longer have a computer I must decide, “Do I want to return to snail mail?”
The answer to my dilemma strikes in a miraculous instant! “I’ve got it!” I will keep my computer, but I’ll judiciously hit the “Delete” button, get rid of Ken and my Facebook account, and start all over with my true identity.
Now I ask this favor of you; Will you “Friend” me? And please “like” me on Facebook.