Facebook vs MySpace: Battle of the Generations?

(Originally posted on the website Heron Flight)

My 20-something-year-old daughter says that Facebook is for “old” people.

Thems fightin’ words, girl!

First off, who you calling old? ME? Ha! That will be the day! Though I am 40-something I don’t intend to get any, to use your term, “older.” Yes, I said that when I was 20-something and again at 30-something. But I mean it this time! If I believe it hard enough it has to come true. The fountain of youth right here in my own mind. Ageless. Eternal. Trans-generational. There are young people. There are old people. And there is ME. Smart. Funny. Handsome as a jackrabbit. (?) And COOL.

Therein is the end of the argument. Face it. Facebook is way COOLER than MySpace. It’s sleek. It’s clean. It’s easy. It’s spiffy and state of the art. MySpace is… well, the last time I logged in there all I heard were crickets and distant echoes of past comments and bulletins. Old crusty profiles of people who have moved on to bigger and better. Facebook, baby, Facebook.

One of the cool things about Facebook is that I have reconnected with several past friends, people from high school (who will also kick your tushie if you call them old), people I regretfully lost touch with but now have found again.

Ah! But there is the proof of your argument, you say! “Facebook is where old people hook up with all their old high school pals. It started out as a website for college kids. But the old people took it over.” Well, sweetheart, guess what? Half your girlfriends on MySpace are now MY friends on Facebook! And I don’t have to worry about ranking them and rankling their feelings. We’re all equal friends here. Ageless and eternal. That’s right, Daddy’s friends with your friends. Daddy writes on their walls. And they write back.

But I guess you didn’t notice cause you’re still MySpacin’ over there. Was that a tumbleweed blowing through your profile? Knowing a better thing when you see it ain’t being old. It’s just, like I said, COOL. It’s time to upgrade, kid!

Slaughter at the Mouse Hotel

cowboy4

(Originally posted on the website Heron Flight)

Last night, I fell asleep finally at 1 AM. I hadn’t had much sleep all week and I was happy to have finally hit the sack.

But then… maybe an hour or two later, I woke up to this scratching sound in my room. I was so tired that I just reached over and banged on the floor to make it go away. But it wouldn’t. I put music on so I couldn’t hear it and fell asleep again. I knew it was a damn mouse.

Then at 4 it woke me again. This time much closer to my bed. Then I realized the dirty thing was on my dresser!!! But I couldn’t see it among the vitamin bottles, the Wal-Mart receipts, and the rest of the flotsam and jetsam of the frantic ocean known as my life. So, I wearily reached over and tried slamming a drawer, the one where I stash my winter gloves and hats, to make the beast flee.

The clawing and nibbling hesitated… then continued.

Finally I realized that it must be under the small bookshelf, crafted by jigsaw and screwdriver 20 years ago, sitting on top of my dresser. A bit of space beneath provided a perfect mouse hideout.

Slightly more awake then, I remembered that there were three mouse traps in a package stashed in a kitchen cabinet, the ones I bought for the Mouse Mobile when January deep froze the world and the mice took refuge in my car’s heating system. Four of the infiltrators died then.

Unbelievably, in route to the kitchen, I heard scratching, then scurrying! More pests afoot!

“I DECLARE WAR ON THEE, RODENTS! YE SHALL NOT LIVE TO SEE DAWN’S ARRIVAL!”

I deftly deployed two traps at either end of the kitchen counter and strategically stationed the third atop the dresser, abutting the rear of the bookshelf. Taking cover in bed, I waited.

Less than two minutes later I heard “WHACK!” out in the kitchen.

“YES!”

10 minutes later…. “WHACK!” on the dresser!

“Keep the change, ya filthy animal!”

And another bit the dust while I slept the sleep of the victorious.

Final Score: Sam – 3 Vermin – 0!