Friday, March 03, 2006

MySpace is NoSpace for Moi


So, I'm talking to a long-lost friend who says her 12-year old son has a space on MySpace.com. I ask her if she knows what that is or what he does when on the site. Friend says she's in the room when her son's on the computer, which I take to mean, "no, I don't have any idea what he's doing but I'm there, so he wouldn't dare do anything naughty." I take it also to mean, "I don't have a clue about this Internet thing but I'm sure it's fine."

(Um, the horse to the left has nothing to do with MySpace or this blog. I just thought it was funny. I needed some fun after visiting MySpace.)

Being the curious type, I go home and hop directly on line, heading right to MySpace.com. Let me make this clear: I am too old to be hanging out on MySpace. It's not designed for crusty old professionals like me. But, I keep a stiff upper lip and enter this land of the young and horny.

Because I wanted to specifically "see" his site, I have to join the party. I make a screen name and a profile and pray no one EVER sees that I am on this site. After I finish this grizzly task, I begin my search for the 12-year old.

Unfortunately for him (in my opinion), it was very easy to find him, as he used his real name and his real home town. He used a real picture of himself. (He did say he was 19 years old, so that was entertaining.) I hop on his site....and, my hair curls! I send him an email to his site, saying "does your mother know what you are doing?"

If this is what 12-year olds do these days, I NEVER want to be a parent. NEVER. I never want to know what my nieces are doing. I don't want to think about any of this. Geez, he's TWELVE years old! Ignorance is bliss.

He's got photos of naughty women. I mean really naughty. We won't even mention all the swear words or the scary music playing. I certainly don't want to think about his profile or him saying he's 19 years old. I am horrified and know my friend will be, too. I can't look away--it's like a train wreck!

I finally escape from this horror and zoom around the site. Wow. I am so old. I find other people I know and grasp my chest in sheer terror. The world is a much different place than when I was 12-years old. These people have really, really frightening sites. Old, old, old. That's me.

Anyway, I see my friend the next week and talk about seeing her son's site. She looks pissed. Not at him, but at me. It is a "that-was-none-of-your-business-to-look-at-my-son's-site-you're-not-a-parent-so-what-do- you-know" look. 

I have crossed a boundary. 

This initially confuses me, as I truly thought she'd want to know. I don't think she wanted to know. No, I know she didn't want to know. I would not know this because I am not a parent of a 12 year old. It is none of my business and now I see this, oh-so-clearly. 

Dang, I hate that hindsight is foresite kind of thing.

It appears that, in such cases, ignorance is bliss for parents. I have dogs, not kids. I need to stick with dogs.

I quickly decide that MySpace is no place for me. 

I decide to stick to reading print newspapers, playing with the dogs and watching TV shows designed for forty-something year olds, not 12 year olds. I'll stay in MY personal space. Not outer space. Not spaced out. Not MySpace. Just my space. 

I'll leave the train wrecks and naughty pictures to those who have spawned children, with my nose securely planted in my space, not yours. 

Please don't make me go back to that site. I think I'm scarred for life.
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