I am now 136 cocktails, 17 apple trees, 14 WPA posters, a set of toenail clippings and a case of Ebola virus behind in my Facebook giving.
I have been a been a member of Facebook for about three months now, and I have yet to get the hang of the process. I joined at the urging of many friends who had established communications networks on the site, devised pop quizzes (meaning both "immediate" and "pop culture"), and played games such as Mafia Wars and Farm Town with "friends" across the globe. At last count I had 103 Facebook friends, many of whom are friends of friends or simply people I have heard of, or whose writing I have read and liked (including several Scene4 columnists). I have tried to use the service to advertise upcoming events, with varying success. I have taken a few of the quizzes, and was beguiled to find out that I would be Claude Monet if I were a dead painter or Jerry Garcia if I were a dead rock star. (I haven't yet grown a beard yet to enhance the dual resemblance, but I'm thinking abut it.) Mostly, however, I have been inundated with gifts and with exhortations to reciprocate. Facebook has officially listed my gift-giving status as "Scrooge." I will only tell my friends that I really do intend to return their kindness, as soon as I figure out how to unlock the pina colada or the Clydesdale horse.
So far the most fun I've had with Facebook is with my personal description on my home page. It provides an opportunity to do a little tongue-in-cheek personal mythologizing, and also to mess with people's minds by changing the entry frequently. Here are the descriptions I've posted so far:
* Miles David Moore is famous for his efforts to popularize classical music. His CDs include "Disco Webern," "Frescobaldi Goes Country," and that platinum-selling hit, "Hip-Hop Hindemith."
* Miles David Moore is one of the reigning superstars of his time. He lives in an impregnable fortress in Malibu, Calif., with his wife, Jennifer Lopez, and their twins, Neon Meate and Dream Octafish.
* Miles David Moore does not exist. For proof, read Richard Dawkins' sensational bestseller, "The Fatslug Delusion."
For further jocularity, keep checking my Facebook page. Meanwhile, I have to rustle up a round of strawberry daiquiris and some swine flu.