In the early days of the Internet, just after we ooh-ed and ah-ed over network access to anatomical diagrams, and right before our children posted their every breath to friends, we joked that all was fueled and funded by p*rn*graphy. We may have been right.
These days, however, I think birthdays are the new engine. Not just the dollars spent on cake and cookie decorations inspired by Marilyn, here, or Marcela, here. Not just the purchases at stores Californian’s wouldn’t have known pre-Internet, like Catbird.
The web seems so perfectly constructed for birthday wishes themselves.
Sometimes it’s too hard to comment on blogs, or respond to tweets. I Pick Pretty wrote a heartfelt post recently about commenting, and participating, and recognition, and support, here. I understand her frustration. We are all busy, the number of spots to type our good wishes is almost limitless, supporting and participating everywhere, not possible.
On the other hand, sometimes it’s too easy to comment, given the circumstances. To give facile reinforcement, or comfort. I sometimes consider how it’s harder it is in real life, than on the Internet, to take care of people. You have to stand up, lift heavy boxes, deny yourself to give to others. That’s more work than tippity-tapping on a keyboard.
But on the occasion of a birthday, commenting, or tweeting, or liking, or repinning, or whatever, a Happy Birthday, takes the exactly right amount of time. We can all even add an exclamation mark. And mean it. Feels pretty good on the receiving end too.
Perfect. And thank you very, very much.