Saturday, March 1, 2014

fomo in 3 parts

1.  I was surprised to hear Mrs. T say no when a friend invited her to an event.  Several days later someone else received a no.  I've become accustomed to it, but it's a rare NO that travels outside the house.

When queried, my bride declaimed: "All your life you have to DO or go...I'm tired of doing nonsensical things I don't want to do."

"Sounds like Modern Maturity has arrived", I quipped.  My age old campaign for staying home has, until now, fallen on deaf ears.  My bride never ceases to amaze me.  

2.  Following up with Liz's father about her birthday, he claims he hasn't seen his daughter's face since she unwrapped her IPhone.  He misses seeing her smile, as her head is forever bowed in what our ancestors would have believed to be prayer and contemplation, a condition modern parents recognize as text syndrome.  

3.  Cooling my heels at the tailor earlier this week I found myself thumbing through an ancient copy of GQ.  GQ asked if I were suffering from FOMO, the fear of missing out - a compulsive concern that one might miss an opportunity for social interaction, a novel experience, profitable investment or other satisfying event?   My kids knew FOMO as the BBD, the bigger, better deal that was just over the horizon. 

I am happy to admit this technical caveman is safe from FOMO's deleterious effects, and believed that so was my bride, until yesterday, when she surprised me by creating  a Facebook account.  She needs Facebook friends to give her extra manpower to play Candy Crush. And so it begins.



Anonymous said...

In our part of the country it's known as FOMS, Fear Of Missing Something. In our family, my two brothers have acute cases of the malady while I, on the other hand, blissfully occupy the opposite end of the spectrum. I can't tell you how many friends/foes have given me the front doormat that reads "Go Away." To think my brothers and I came from the same womb...

Tell your bride I'm glad she finally caught up with her elders who first knew the game a decade ago as Bejeweled, then Bedazzled, I also see it intermittently called Diamond Mine, but Candy Crush is 'where it's at' for you kids nowadays. It's a good little stand-alone [no Facebook cheering squad required] cognition-sharpening exercise. You might like it, Sir.


Anonymous said...

It'll throw you off here or there, don't worry about such rudeness, just wait, reset the game, keep going....


ELS said...

I can go for weeks without speaking to anyone other than those to whom I am married or parent. After decades of the FOMO monster, I am so happy to embrace my inner curmudgeon. In another life, I'd like to drink bourbon sitting on the porch with a loaded shotgun.

Not sure how that works in bourgeoise England...