Facebook: A Fable

The younger generation among us – and the author must admit that he is among its ranks – has become rather smug, complacent, and may I be so bold as to say conceited when it comes to their place in world history. There can be no doubt that our Age of Information and Technology is profoundly unlike any other age in world history. More technological capabilities are at our fingertips than ever before, and a wealth of nearly unlimited information is now fairly easily accessible. Thanks to social networking sites, communication among humans can be ongoing, if desired, twenty-four hours a day.
Because some of these things are unprecedented in world history, we of this generation pride ourselves in thinking that we invented the concepts themselves. Such thinking could not be more mistaken. We may have, in fact, invented Facebook and the iPod, but the concepts that are the foundations of these grand institutions are not new. They are quite old.
The concept I am thinking of right now is social networking (particularly on the website “Facebook”, although Twitter also comes to mind). None of our forefathers ever wrote a status update, or “tweeted”. But did they socially network, as we do? You had better believe they did. Sure, we’re a little more advanced, but I dare say they did it in not a very different way from the way we do it now – and for that reason we have no reason to boast as if we had reached some never-before-reached pinnacle of achievement.
I will tell you a story that illustrates my point that we are no more elevated in advancement than our forebears, that we have nothing to brag about over them. They matched us in every way. The following tale may, for all I know, be absolutely true in its every detail. Even if some of the names are changed, I can vouch for the fact that the underlying concepts are as true as any that have ever been discussed. And so I tell it to you now exactly as it was told to me.
The town was a sleepy one – Ox’s Head, Wisconsin. The town may have been sleepy, but the people were astir with activity – every one of them – on one fine sunny spring morning. For instance, if we were to stop outside Mr. and Mrs. Sam Brunner’s house, we would only have to wait a few moments to see signs of this activity.
We would only have to wait, I say, a few moments before the door opens, and out bursts Mrs. Brunner’s venerable old head. The rest of her is still inside, but she stretches her neck outside the door, scrunches up her already-wrinkled face, and screams for the whole street to hear,
“I’m makin’ peanut-brittle today! WOO-HOO! I hope the new recipe works! HA-HA-HA!”
With that, Mrs. Brunner re-enters her house and slams her door closed with energetic force. But we shall not leave Mr. and Mrs. Sam Brunner’s house quite yet. We only have to wait a few moments – nay, seconds – more before a sound catches our ear and we instinctively look up to the second-floor window directly above us. The window is opening. Out pops a very sleepy white head. It must be Mr. Sam Brunner!
“Good morning world!” he shouts hoarsely. “I had a pretty good night’s sleep – I needed it! Now time to go milk the cow!”
We smile, shake our head in amusement, and begin to walk on down the road. It matters not where we are headed, for there are many sights and sounds to experience in Ox’s Head, Wisconsin.
Let us proceed a few houses down – say three or four. Let us stop in front of the Waltons’ house (not the television show, mind you, although they may be direct ancestors of John Boy) and go around to the back yard. Don’t be timid – it’s quite all right. You see, we’re visitors from the future, and none of the Waltons (or any of the other Ox’s Headians) can see us. We’re not disturbing anyone at the moment. Let us take in the view.
Ah! Mr. Walton is kneeling with his son in the green grass. They are both intently looking at several pieces of wood. What are they doing? Listen!
“Will it really sail?” asks the young boy, who is dressed in blue overalls.
“You bet it will, John Boy” – I told you they might have been related to the television family – “and we’re going to find out as soon as I put the two pieces of the hull together, attach this stick, which is the mast, and then go get a handkerchief for the sail. After that, we’ll go down to Wilshire’s Pond and see what it does!”
“Oh boy! Wait till Timmy and Bobby hear about this! Can you wait a minute, Pop! I need to go tell them!”
“Okay, son, I’ll be right here! And when you come back, I’ll let you put the sail on top!”
Let us follow the young boy – quickly, now, he’s a fast one – as he dashes out of the back yard, around the house, and toward the road out in front. When he gets on the road, he stops in the middle of the pavement, cups both hands around his mouth, and shouts in his youthful little voice,
“Hey! Me and Pop are makin’ a wooden sail boat, and we’re gonna sail it on the Pond in a little while! I’m so excited! I’ll tell ya all about it later!”
John Boy smiles as he remains standing in the road, hands on his hips. We find that he is staring intently at the door of the house across the way. And it’s not in vain, either, for the front door of that house now opens and out comes another small boy. We can see him come out a little farther into his yard and stand and cup his hands over his mouth as we saw John Boy do. The boy shouts – and we can hear him clearly –
“Hey, John Boy, that’s swell! Tell me how it goes so we can both play with it later!”
John Boy, still standing at attention next to us, smiles. He again makes his makeshift megaphone and cries out,
“Okay, Timmy! I’ll do that! I might even draw a picture of it and show everybody!”
Now John Boy turns his attention to another house across the way, but to his left. He stares intently – as do we along with him – for a few moments, but eventually he shakes his head and turns back toward his house. “I guess Bobby’s not up yet,” we hear him mutter.
But let’s not bother the Waltons any longer. There are more things to see in Ox’s Head, Wisconsin. A short trip down the road will take us right into the business section of town. I wonder what is waiting for us there?
We won’t have long to wait, for we’re practically there now. Look, over there, next to Milton’s General Store! There’s a man getting into his buggy. He just grabbed the reins, but before he tells his horse to “Giddyap!”, he leans halfway out of his seat and shouts into the air with a grumpy growl,
“That Milton’s General Store just ripped me off again! I’ll never shop there again!”
This exclamation gets very little reaction from the townsfolk, who are all milling about quietly on their business. One man looked up just at the buggy driver made his statement, and he cupped his hands to his mouth as if to say something in reply; however, he seems to have thought better of it and now walks on.
Here, let’s walk across the street toward the bank. It looks as if a well-dressed man is at the door with keys – he must be unlocking it. That must be it, because the sign says the bank opens at 9:30, and it’s nearly that time right now. The man has just turned the key in the lock, but as he has one hand on the doorknob, he cups his mouth with the other and shouts out toward the street with a fairly audible sigh,
“I’m off to work again! I can’t wait for the weekend!”
A younger man across the way, the one who’s carrying a load of wood on his shoulder, stops and calls back,
“I’m with you, Mert! It can’t come soon enough for me! Ha-ha-ha!”
If we were to stay around town for the rest of the day, watching the sights and listening to the sounds, we’d hear lots of things just like this, and on a fairly regular basis. It’s a fairly busy and quite interesting place, that Ox’s Head, Wisconsin.
But now let’s go forward to the evening (we can do that since we are visitors from the future). It’s getting quite dark, and the activity has noticeably quieted down. The banker left his office a while ago, but he didn’t say anything; he must have had a rough day. Maybe John Boy Walton’s boat sank – or did it? We may be about to find out as we sit on the road outside the Waltons’ house. The upstairs window is opening! Why, it’s the boy himself!
“I had a GREAT time today with my boat! It sailed real well, and I can’t wait to do it again tomorrow! Maybe all of you can join me! HA-HA! Good night!”
John Boy shuts the window. Across the way, another window opens, then another. Why, it’s Timmy again, from earlier today, and the other boy at the other window must be Bobby. They’re about to shout something…
“That’s swell, John Boy! We’ll meet up in the morning!” shouts Timmy.
“Hey, I didn’t know you were sailing a boat! You’ll have to show me tomorrow!” That one must be Bobby. We can faintly hear both windows close.
All is quiet for a moment. Hark! Is that a noise over at Mr. and Mrs. Sam Brunner’s? Yes! It’s the door opening. Listen…
“Peanut brittle turned out REAL good today! I almost ate it all! Sorry I can’t offer anyone any of it! Maybe next time! HAHAHAHA!!!! I’m off to bed!”
It sounds like the Brunners’ second-story window is opening again. Yes, it is, because I can just make out a white head emerging out into the cool air. Can you?
“Got a lot done today!” Old Man Brunner shouts hoarsely with a slight raspy cough. “Now I think I’ll take a bath before bed! Or maybe I’ll just go to bed – too tired to take a bath! HAR-HAR-HAR-*COUGH*! Good night, all!”
With that, the window closes. Night is fast falling on Ox’s Head, Wisconsin. It may nearly be time for us to be leaving, because it doesn’t look like there will be much going on for a while. The sky is getting so dark I can barely see the Waltons’ house. Hark! Is that a door opening at the house next to the Waltons’? I think it must be…
“You in bed yet, John Boy?” asks a shrill, young female voice. In reply, the same upstairs window at the Waltons’ opens up.
“Not quite yet, but almost!” shouts John Boy.
“Oh, well, I’ll talk to you in the morning! I’m tired!”
“Okay! G’Night, Mary Ellen!”
“G’Night, John Boy!”
Ah, yes. Pleasant town, that Ox’s Head, Wisconsin. I just had to stifle a slight yawn there. I think it’s time we both headed home to bed ourselves.

And that was the tale as ‘twas first told me not so long ago. I hope you understood the moral of this tale. Next time you think that we in the Digital Age have it made, that we do things so much better than our forefathers did, take note. They were no slouches, either. We may have the technology to do it better and faster, but they still did it. Why, I would say their social networking skills back then, though simpler, were in a way better – or at least more sincere, more pure, more free from the hustle and bustle of today. So remember that next time you type a status update – and remember the good old days, when Grandpa had to do it all by himself, with just two cupped hands and strong lungs, not a computer and Internet, which just makes everything so easy that we’ve almost become too lazy these days. But maybe I’m just old-fashioned.