PT, a musician friend, is on the road in a lonely hotel room with “a fanta grape soda on the night stand and 4 dunkin donuts on my lap.”
CF laments, “my desk is now officially broken!”
I wish I could help out my good buddy, BS, who barely had the energy to let us know he’s “sick”.
And P. loves the rain, but shudders at a memory. “The rain from my childhood was a dirty, simpering, unpleasant thing, squeezed between tall buildings and reduced to puddles.”
Man, what a bummer! How I wish I could let them know I empathize and that they have a friend, without taking the time to actually write something thoughtful in the comments.
Facebook needs a Bummer Button. It would work the same as the omnipresent Like button, except you’d click it when something’s, well, a bummer. Starving third world children? Bummer. Gay marriage voted down? Bummer. Sharon Angle up two in the polls? Bummer. Foursquare check-in with an overcooked burger and soggy fries? Big bummer!
Facebook measures Likes and Comments as “interactions”. I bet that a Bummer Button would double Facebook interactions. We want to let a friend know we’re thinking about them without getting too involved. It absolves us of guilt while showing solidarity.
There are those who advocate a Facebook Dislike Button. I’m not one of them. Disliking is a button of judgment. It can be too easily interpreted as criticism of the decision to post in the first place. Rand Paul sucks on Aqua Buddha. Dislike! What exactly did you dislike? Rand Paul? Aqua Buddha? Sucking? Or the fact its posted in the first place?
So what am I going to do about it? Well, I guess I’ll start a Facebook Bummer Button page. Rather ironic that if you support the idea of a Bummer Button, you’ll need to Like it first. Kind of a bummer…