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Sybil Adelman Sage Headshot

How Do I Get Facebook Out of My Face?

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Even I, surely in line to be honored by The Kennedy Center for wasting time, had no interest in responding to that attention-getting "short experiment" written in a fancy font on my Facebook page that begins, "No one reads my wall," and then challenges me to prove I got all the way through it by writing one word in the comment space. It didn't end there. I was then asked to share the whole thing so the poster could return the favor. I don't want to hurt the feelings of my FB friend, who is a real friend I share secrets and even desserts with. But I've gotten this several times. Maybe 371 are too many Facebook friends? I don't judge their loyalty by whether or not they read to the end of one of my postings. No, my definition of a friend is someone who will give you an organ.

Another game that turns up far too regularly on FB is an assemblage of letters and the request that I make a note of which word I spotted first. This gets passed along by friends with real jobs. My concern is that a surgeon not take a break from performing a hip replacement to find out if I spotted "sap" or "wallstreet" first. Full disclosure, I take time with this, looking until I find a word that will help with my image.

Dear friends, all 371 of you and others who graduated from Teaneck High School or NYU and are about to lure me into your circle this many years later, I beg you to save me from myself. I should also address those of you with whom I have mutual friends who will come across my name in the "You may know" section. I don't need distractions or help to be unproductive. That's the one area where I am an overachiever.

I'd like to propose that someone create a FB Rehab Center so we can be weaned away from our events, upcoming birthdays and the attendant ads promising to notify me about cheaper flights to Ixtapa. What if each of us who's started a thread asking where everyone was when John Lennon got murdered were to reconsider what we do with our time and volunteer to schlep meals around for God's Love We Deliver or, at the very least, to toss out discount coupons that expired during the Bush administration?

If you've read this far, you, too, need Facebook therapy. 2013-12-09-head.jpg