Whatever became of what’s-his-name,
The kid with the freckled face
Who lived next door
When I was four
Then left without a trace?
What was I thinking? Me, the urban hermit, joining a networking site? But a jobless friend suggested that we take the plunge — and, suddenly, we were “linked in.” Of course, we were only linked to each other, but, gradually, our circle of associates began to widen. Mine would have widened rapidly, had the thousands of members of the national organization I recently worked for not been afraid to be connected to a pariah. You see, I was terminated by a Catholic charity for telling the truth, and my former colleagues know, all too well, that the truth can set them free, too.
Networking’s not exactly my strong point, but I figured, What the hell? It can’t hurt, right? The only problem was, when I got started, I decided to link to people I like instead of to people who can help me “get ahead.” And all of my connections were linked to likeable people, too, instead of go-getters. It was a vicious circle, or the opposite of a vicious circle: a kindly cul de sac. When it comes to networking, my friends and I all seem to suffer from “invincible ignorance.” We just don’t get it. Maybe there should be a networking site for losers like us. We could call it LockedOut.com.
Months went by and nothing came of being “linked in.” Then, I noticed that my children really were linked in — on Facebook. They weren’t getting ahead either, but they were having fun with their friends. Figuring it was for kids, and with Danny Glover’s Lethal Weapon line running through my head, I decided to risk making a fool of myself and see what Facebook was all about. No sooner had I signed up than two old friends from high school surfaced. I hadn’t seen or heard from either one in over 35 years. Amazing.
I still don’t get all the chit-chat stuff, and the befriending of complete strangers. Even with time on my hands, I don’t have time for that kind of nonsense. But it is nice to discover, every now and then, and always unexpectedly, whatever became of what’s-his-name.