Back in the old days, say 2001 or 2002, it was easier to be the
father of a teenage daughter. Those were simpler times. We shared a
computer that sat on a desk.
Back in the old days, say 2001 or 2002, it was easier to be the father of a teenage daughter. Those were simpler times. We shared a computer that sat on a desk.
Communication was gentle. We sometimes sat at the same table. Prying into her private life did not require a password.
Father: “There’s more sugar than liquid in your tea. Will you move on to hard drugs next? You’re not pregnant, are you?”
Daughter: “When I’m done with the comics you can have them. I’m not a morning person. Drink your coffee.”
Now, to find out about my daughter, I do what everyone else does: log on to MySpace.com. Most of the youth in our great nation now have profiles on MySpace. Teens catch up with friends, meet new people, hear about new bands and listen to their stuff, and lie about themselves the way adults do when placing a personal ad.
It’s a revolution, and it will stay that way until next month when everyone decides it’s, like, ruined, and totally uncool. Then a new online thing will be invented, and I won’t understand that, either.
But my daughter says MySpace will stick around.
“It’s like the cell phone,” she said. “It’s how you get in touch with people nowadays.”
In my day, we didn’t keep in touch with people. We told them we would, but we didn’t, although some years we got Christmas cards.
But for now, MySpace is the place to go to find out deep personal stuff without having to go to a bar. According to a hopelessly outdated story in the Rocky Mountain News that ran on Dec. 10, MySpace now has 42 million members. Each month 4 million people join. The site is less than 2 years old. It has already been sold to a conglomerate owned by Rupert Murdoch for $580 million.
Joining is free. Members can write to each other. You can put in pictures of yourself. You can tell people what you like. You can use bad words for emphasis. You might even be featured as a “cool new member.” You can make new friends from all over the country.
Members are not supposed to provide telephone numbers or addresses or last names in profiles, but some do it anyway. And so, of course, The Bad Things have arrived. Like:
n Some kids, in our own local area even, have allegedly learned the e-mail addresses of classmates and threatened them.
n One kid posted a message to send police to his house, and when help arrived they found the teen dead, an apparent suicide.
When 42 million people use something, stuff will happen.
I find MySpace fun until it isn’t. Then it’s boring. The pictures of people wearing funny hats and wigs and talking about tattoos and bands is swell until everyone starts to sound the same. But it can be a great way to pass time and not feel alone.
And I’ve had friends tell me they’ve hooked up with people from the past. My daughter looks up former high school classmates to see where they are and what they are listening to and if they have any tattoos they regret.
Me, I don’t want people from high school knowing where I am. So maybe I’ll join and post that I died in a fishing accident and please send contributions to a special bank account for my 11 hungry children all younger than 3.
For sure, one of the great things about MySpace is that you can make yourself look pretty interesting. I told my daughter that maybe she should say her hobbies are trapeze and juggling crowbars. She could be a whole new person.
“It’s not like that,” she said. “Most people are pretty honest because there’s a lot of interaction.”
Fine. But I told her she should make a profile of me. Make me a better guy. She said, “Sure, dad.”
