The internet and the real world.

Years ago we bounced through life. We rubbed up against each other and sometimes we stuck and sometimes our momentum carried us far away. Sometimes we would call each other, sometimes we’d write. Sometimes we’d never see each other again and whatever experiences we shared in life turned into a hazy, sunny and warm memory. Sometimes it was ‘really nice to see you again’ and other times it was a confession of ‘hat[ing] that fucking guy’.  Either way, that was how I (and most other people) related to these people who disappeared from our lives and popped up again like factoids on a VH-1 show (back when they showed videos!)

I remember people who moved away: Chris Martin and Ryan Rushing from elementary school, Robin Livingston and Suzie Lack from middle school, just about everyone from high school and a few choice people from my twenties- all gone. All blips that came upon my social radar or happened upon my own self- centered existence and then left.

As a kid, and even today it was bittersweet. These people left and I was heartbroken. These were friends- people I’d chosen to share things with in my life, people who came to birthday parties, or Christmas parties, or even it’s Friday night and we don’t need a fucking theme parties. I learned at a very young age because of this that people leave me for reasons beyond their control and that it sucks. I learned that you have to deal with it. I learned that change is inevitable.

Sometimes they actually moved far away (Suzie Lack moved all the way to Egypt) and sometimes they moved 10 miles away- which in 8 year old terms is like a million miles away (like Chris Martin).  But they always were just gone after that like they were dead or something.

And then the internet arrived.

At first, the internet was like a friend making machine in reverse: you never found the old ones, but you made tons of new ones. But these weren’t “real” friends; the terms of an online friendship were such that you never got to admit that you made friends online. Online friends were people who lived as far away as Chris or Suzie, but you never met. Online friends were fat divorcees that you fucked at 3 AM after talking on AOL Instant Messenger. Online friends were diseased- socially at least. You didn’t mention, bring around, or even pretend that you had online friends to your real-life friends.

Over the last five or six years, the social networking thing has taken off, and now the internet is bringing together long lost friends almost every day. It seems like I’m constantly finding or being found by old high school friends or guys from my punk rock past.  They come out of the woodwork looking heavier, happier and better dressed. They often have kids and take pictures of their wives holding them. They take pictures of houses and boats, of sunsets and Mickey Mouse. You find out who married who, or that Suzie died when she was in 10^th grade. You find old flames and end up marrying them (hi Jess!). You agree to have a beer or coffee with people that you would have never done something like that with all those years ago, and nobody bats an eyelash. These are real friends.

Today, within fifteen minutes of each other, I ran into the internet’s past and present at my part-time job. I saw General Lee (the name has been changed to protect the dude’s anonymity) , an old acquaintance from the punk rock days. He introduced me to his kids and his wife. We talked about houses, dogs and bass guitars. We told old jokes about people we know and asked each other the usual “what ever happened to…?” type of questions. It was pleasant, bland, heart warming perfectly acceptable conversation.  A few minutes later I ran into Mr. Roarke. Mr. Roarke is someone I know from a message board that I post on, and we exchanged a similar form of small talk, but it was somehow nicer. We discussed his trip to Haiti and the vaccinations that he has to get to travel abroad. We talked about what was happening around us and what a neat little tool Twitter is for connecting us to opportunities. We told a few jokes and went about our day. It was one of the more pleasant interactions that I have had with someone I barely know recently.

So why was I so reluctant to tell a coworker where I knew Mr. Roarke from, while I was perfectly at ease referring to General Lee and I’s common past? Is that stigma of online versus in real life friends still happening, or am I woefully behind the times? Was it just the 14 year old in me trying to eternally look cool that took greater pride in talking about playing in bands versus discussing retarded nuns on an internet message board?

These are questions I need answered people, so help me out.

Also, be good.