Every day, another page in the Facebook

It was just about a year ago that our dear friend Solange in Hawaii said to me - in a cell-to-cell conversation from Baltimore to Maui - that I ought to get on Facebook to see the photos of all she was up to out there in the 50th state. Back here in the 7th state, I stuck my big toe into Lake Facebook, and within a few months, I was finding people from all sorts of corners of my life, and now, here I sit, with 265 "friends."

Now, then. Among them, you'll find relatives, coworkers, past schoolmates, really close friends, and people who wouldn't know me from Mayor Adam West but who "friended" me nonetheless - e.g. my Sunday "Today" show favorite, the fabulous Jenna Wolfe. Being her FB friend does not mean that if she were in town to do a story, she would ring up Peggy and me and get together with us for a latte or something. But I get to see interesting pictures that she wishes to share from her life, and if, (as if!) she would like a tiny glimpse of mine, it's all there, one click away from seeing pictures of me and the giant Amish figurine we saw this week. I remain reasonably certain that Jenna Wolfe has far more interesting things to go and do and see, but she's so cool!

More likely, friends who actually know us would be interested in seeing these pictures. And I love to see what friends are up to as well, so it's a great thing, this Facebook.

But - I saw this photo online the other day - and I said whoa Nellie, here comes the backlash! All of a sudden, people are knocking Facebook as some sort of insidious infection of the superego. I take it that this is a photo of the front window of some coffeehouse whose proprietor, while providing free internet access, wishes to brook no babble in his bubblehouse about social networking. The most common complaint I hear is, people don't like other people changing their status to something seemingly superficial, such as:

"Esther is wringing her hands at the thought of Danny Gokey getting sent home"

or

"Vladimir is heading for Home Depot, the dry cleaners, Wendy's, and a well-deserved nap."

I think that if you really care about Esther, you want to know how she feels about the thrilling, yet seemingly pre-ordained outcome, of this year's American Idol competition. Your concern for Vladimir and his Saturday errand-and-snooze schedule may ebb and flow depending upon your own ability to pick up spackle, your seersucker suit, and a Spicy Chicken combo before sacking out on the settee.

I wouldn't take Facebook as seriously as some do. I have enough to fret about with the Orioles.