STAN CLARK IS ON FACEBOOK. That means different things to different people, and nothing at all to those who don’t know that he’s Ann’s dad, a World War II veteran and Pearl Harbor survivor who, along with his young sweetheart (and like millions of other members of that Greatest Generation) raised his children in hardwon but modest comfort.
To some, Stan’s presence on Facebook is a great way for him to find old friends and keep up with what the kids are doing; I like to think of him calling into the sewing room so his young sweetheart can keep up too.
To others, Stan’s Facebook account is a McLuhanesque rite-of-passage into the global electronic village — an ubiquitous collision of social Gestalts previously defined by linear spacetime ego-vectors. (I have something like five or six of those myself, which may or may not be the case for a significant number of Facebookers.)
And to still others, it’s just another day on planet Earth: a day of opportunity, of circumstance and of random miracles; not only of communication over vast distances of time and space, but the greater miracle of raising three kids with a young sweetheart on a banker’s salary — and seeing the great-grandchildren laugh.
Welcome to Facebook, Stan. And welcome to the 21st century.