Pardon My Disinterest

In one of the classic episodes of M*A*S*H, Trapper and Hawkeye are getting into a heated exchange over some minor issue (the real reason behind the verbal skirmish and rising tempers was that the C.O. had banned liquor on the base indefinitely). Following some more back and forth, Hawkeye ends the conversation by telling his bunkmate, “there isn’t a machine invented that can measure my indifference to that remark.”

In full disclosure I have used that put-down over the years – giving full attribution of course.

Sadly, I find myself repeating that phrase more frequently of late, especially regarding social media – and in particular, Facebook. Now I realize that “social” casts a wide net with regard to meaning and scope, but do I really want to know how good the pot roast was last night, or what great seats you scored to “Hamilton?” Congratulations, your kid got into Podunk State, or you nailed your best time in a regional 10K, but truthfully, there isn’t a machine invented… well need I go on?

In other words, don’t bore me.

And in truth Facebook has become a J.D. Power certified bore.

I can’t speak on Instagram, Twitter, Reddit or Tumblr, because I stubbornly refuse to enroll. I am however on LinkedIn, but as most of you know that’s career-related, not about one’s take on the Yankees-Red Sox series or whether Brett Kavanaugh is High Court material.

Roughly 10 years ago, two of my millennial colleagues at Accounting Today persuaded me to allow them to launch a new section of the newspaper that catered to the younger generation of CPAs and of course, Facebook was an integral part of it. Not surprisingly, the section was well received as the profession had been starving for a vehicle that didn’t cater to middle-aged white male accountants as nearly every outlet at that time did.

I was not far behind the debut, beginning my own Facebook page soon afterward which I still have today. But truthfully, I rarely post. In fact, I seldom log on. Between the reams of pop-up ads, the unsolicited political chat groups that suddenly I find myself a part of, and droning commentary from lightly informed posters on any number of issues, I usually find myself with a good book instead.

Of course, I could brag about how my one daughter graduated Magna Cum Laude shouldering a double major at one of New York State’s most rigid institutions, or how my other one is a media buyer for a major advertising company. But while personally I’m a very proud dad, I don’t feel the need to share that with the rest of the Facebook community.

No, it’s far easier like Hawkeye just to remain indifferent.