Facebook and Fame

Facebook and Fame

Am I alone in feeling the digital age is cracking the whip and I can’t keep up? Every couple of months I realize there is some new gadget, site or app everybody but me knows about.
The number of ways we can connect to each other is getting bigger but the quality with which we communicate seems to be dropping. I always preferred a small party of close friends than a huge party of acquaintances. Sometimes the digital age seems like a kegger with endless free beer, but a lot of douchebags.

I’m feeling the urge to rebel. Part of me wants to cancel Facebook and Twitter and close up my websites, but I know that’s not the right solution. I have a famous friend who no longer uses email. I think she got tired of trying to reply to everyone who wanted something from her. I think her solution is a little harsh, but I get it.

The little taste of fame I’ve experienced made me realize that once you get more people paying attention to you, your next dream is that a lot of people will leave you alone.
I had always imagined fame would mean intelligent, attractive people succinctly complimenting me. In reality it’s a drunk guy with bad breath cornering you with a racist knock-knock joke. It’s backhanded compliments at the airport. (I like your little show. How come they don’t let you be this funny on t.v.? I bet this show will lead to something big!)

I’m not surprised people love Facebook. It’s shares a lot in common with with fame. It’s seductive and addicting. And if we look to it to make us happier, we’re fucked.

The myth of Facebook and fame is that the more people who are aware of us, the happier and more secure we will become. In reality more people being aware of you only increases the number of opinions about you; and the intensity of those opinions. Fame doesn’t guarantee increased self-esteem. In fact it rarely does, because it increases your exposure to extreme opinions about yourself, and you go back and forth between wondering which one is the truth. Truly famous people (unlike the marginally known like me) get all the good stuff we already know about, but they are also exposed to large numbers of people plagued by hostility, jealousy, and intense neediness.

I have been smothered by people because they think I’m a big deal and I have smothered people because I think they’re a big deal. Both situations were pathetic. Famous people give us the fantasy that if we become their friends, some of their life will rub off on us. I totally get why famous people would want to hide from public view. I get invited to weddings sometimes only because I’m on television. I have never gone because it makes me uncomfortable. Partly because it makes me feel like a pet someone is showing off, and partly because I’m afraid I might like it.

At our core is how we feel about ourselves and I believe that’s based on whether we feel we’re a giver or a taker. For 40 years of my life I was a taker and to avoid looking at that, I had to base how I felt by what people thought of me. It was a mental death sentence. One day I was the king, the next day a piece of shit.

Living a more giving life gives us the freedom from self-obsession. Self-obsession is the most alluring and poisonous dead-end. The irony is that to find ourselves we have to think about others; Cheesy but true.

I don’t know if I could call myself a giver, but I can say I’m more of a giver now. And I feel a peace that fame or money never brought. Other people’s opinions can’t change that.
I used to think that I would know I’d made it if my face was on a billboard on Sunset Blvd. Years ago Dinner and a Movie put my face on a billboard on Sunset Blvd. Did it make me happy? It made me lose respect for Sunset Blvd.