Facebook: Ruining Birthday Etiquette Everywhere

So, my birthday has always been a bit anti-climactic. January 3rd is usually the first day back to school, work, real life, and one usually awakes with the stark realization that the holidays have left them bloated on almond bark and ham, a bit hung-over, and completely broke. No one is usually looking for their next party, complete with a generous portion of birthday cake.

But this isn’t going to be one long complaint about the lackluster celebration involved with my less-than-ideal birthday timing. (Nor will it be one long lecture on saying to someone, ‘it’s for Christmas and your birthday too.’ Although for the record, that is the worst justification ever invented, oh thoughtful relative.)

No, this post is intended to be one long complaint about Facebook Birthday Etiquette.

For example: I received 79 “Happy Birthdays” on Facebook. Impressive, right? I should feel alive and glowing with the overwhelming love of my friends, near and far.

However, we should compare this to the three text messages I received, two e-mails, and four phone calls. (This all includes family, but excludes the in-person Happy Birthdays I received from colleagues and husband.) Oh, and zero birthday cards in the mailbox.

Now those 79 Facebook “Happy Birthdays” are starting to look a little different. I must pose the question to people everywhere, who celebrate the birthdays of their friends and family: Since when is it ok to take 10 seconds (after Facebook TELLS you it’s a person’s birthday) to click a link, then write, “Have a great day!” and be done with it? No phone call, card, email, text, message in a bottle, smoke signal, surprise visit… Or am I totally off-base in my thinking?

Again, this isn’t a complaint. I just want to use this as a compelling illustration of how Facebook is ruining the way we communicate.

I mentioned to a girlfriend that I was tempted to disable my Facebook wall this year, so folks who fall into the category of “Real-Friend-And-Facebook-Friend” would be forced into actual thoughtful interaction with me, the birthday celebrant. I’m perfectly fine with all the people I sat next to in Post-Colonial Lit my sophomore year of college, the people on my co-ed softball team, and various other ‘acquaintances’ to give me the quickie “HBD” on my Facebook wall for all to see. But You? Dear friend who I have shared my inner most fears and secrets with? And You, person I had my pastry chef husband make a special petit four on your last birthday which I hand-delivered to your office?

Et tu, Grandma?

Ok, so maybe this did turn a little bit personal. Don’t worry, folks mentioned above. I still love you. This is clearly my ye-olde-fashioned problem, not yours. Maybe I’m just sad that my day passed with little fanfare from some of the people I love the most.

It’s ok, I understand. You’re bloated on ham and candy, and still a bit hung-over.