"Dear Vegas, you suck. Love, Balthazar."
Balthazar has checked into the United Club at Newark Liberty International. I imagine him, young and single, hanging out in the first class lounge in a pair of Abercrombie jeans and vintage wash oxford, sipping a Bloody Mary, while I sit at my desk gulping coffee, in my yoga clothes, slightly damp from perspiration, seven a.m. on a Wednesday morning, while I enjoy a few last moments of quiet before the kids barrel down the stairs. Balthazar's Facebook status stands out like a pearl among the suburban trifles in my newsfeed. Recital photos, Pampered Chef party invites, kitchen renovations, trips to Disney World, and Balthazar, on his way to Vegas for business for the gazillionth time this year.
Balthazar has posted about his breakup with Vegas with unaffected nonchalance more than once. He's over the first class plane tickets, trendy hotels, and comped bottles of champagne. Balthazar leads a lifestyle that I let go of a long time ago for domestication. To someone like me, who does a "girls night out" twice a year, at best, I'm amused by his indifference, if not disdain, for the in-room Jacuzzis, nightclubs, and lobster dinners.
Balthazar and I knew each other for a few years during my "pre-diva" days. It was a peripheral relationship that would have faded, had it not been for Facebook keeping everyone "connected." The funny thing about Facebook is that it keeps certain relationships artificially alive well after they hit the end of their lifespan, while other relationships are resurrected in a different context. I have become a champion of Balthazar's quick, clever one-liners. He rips his anonymous co-workers to shreds, criticizes the lack of style of the people in the airport security lines, and complains about the crying toddler that they ALWAYS seat behind him on his cross country flights. I've "followed" him to Florida for some R&R, and a road trip to Albany to check out a Hot New Band. He goes out drinking on school nights and eats at trendy restaurants. Balthazar is the coolest guy on Facebook.
If you go to Balthazar's timeline, you'll see that I have "liked" almost every status he has posted. Because they're fun, unpredictable, and a diversion from middle aged suburbia. I'm not against reading about your child's baseball game or looking at your recital photos, Divas. I look forward to them. Reading your posts allows me to keep up with your life, and support your life. However, Facebook is not only how I keep up with all of you, it's also my innocent five-minute brain break, my escape. Facebook is the "Mother's Little Helper" of the twenty-first century.
For a moment here and there, I go to Vegas, the Caribbean, or eat tapas with a microbrew in Hoboken, on a Thursday night. Not that I'd want to be there every Thursday night. I want to be here. Yet, Balthazar is my window, a reminder, a vicarious dip in a penthouse swimming pool while the pasta water is boiling or while the kids are in the bath.
I can't wait to see where Balthazar is going next. And thanks to Facebook, I get to go with him.
Namaste, Divas!
©2012 Ilene Evans
This is a great post. I have a few FB friends like this as well! Came over via SITS.
Thanks for popping over! Glad you appreciate the premise. It’s one of those “good things” about Facebook. He’s part of my little Facebook brain break from life!