Non-Social Media

The problem with social media for me is the social. I am not, never have been, and non-anticipate ever being gregarious.

I chew not the fat. Dishing the dirt makes me cringe. If someone has already voiced what I’m thinking, I nod my agreement. At best, I can make miniscule talk for the span of a quarter-note measure.

There are exceptions, of course, but this is a rant, not a courtroom confession.

Not that I’m afraid to speak. Looking back, I recognize I was never as frightened as my turtle-osity claimed. What I long accepted as caving to intimidation, I now recognize, was sincere introversion. Most of the time I simply didn’t feel the need to throw in my two cents.

And that’s apparently one of my life’s main themes, to fall on literary terms. In a recent answer on Quora to, “Atheists, what is the main argument against the existence of God, in your opinion?” I answered:

For myself, it’s an absence of need. What would a god add to my life? Deliver a list of behaviors to follow? I’m already doing my best to be a decent human being; I don’t need a non-homo-sapiens’ dictate of what that should look like.

Nor would I be able to swallow such a creature’s promises or threats regarding my post-demise future if I did or didn’t abide by their malarky, aka tenets.

Finally, there’s the burning question of how the world began, what force created the universe. Granted, it’s a fun, intellectually stimulating pursuit for the curious, but alas, I’m not one of them. I’m more of a this-life person. I don’t see how having a definitive answer on the Big Bang versus Divine Creation would affect the way I interact with other people anymore than NOT knowing has.

A lot of atheists talk about lacking evidence of god, but I suspect those folks are mostly Christian refugees. Christianity does pride itself, after all, on its by-the-sword proselytization—which seems awfully non-supreme-being-ish to me.

Of course, now that I’m purposely tossing my coins into the fountain every week or so, I recognize how short-sighted I was to not put myself out there, as the relationship‌/‌entrepreneurial/‌‌‌‌marketing gurus love to say. Had I begun speaking/writing my mind decades ago, I’d have a gigantic, dedicated following by now, scores of folk who would hang on my every word and rush to buy my every product and service.

Except… betcha not.

Let’s be real: my reflections would never pass muster on any standardized test’s final edit, nor my non-metaphors resonate with a wide swath of any generalized spectrum. I drive my editors crazing re-chopping the infinitives they unsplit. I habitually connect my ideas to dots not already placed in evidence. Worse, being bluntly honest (or “frank,” as my first publicist spun it), I flagrantly non-respect tender-hearted persons on both sides of every aisle I find myself in.

Having never actually been silent, I’ve got ample proof of that pudding. All my bylined books, articles, and trainings consistently fall on reasonably receptive yet exceedingly selective ears. People who know me tend to nod and move along unless I write something egregious enough for them dispute. People who don’t even know me… generally prefer to keep it that way.

“Your humor, if that’s what you call it, is not for everyone,” one club manager told me eons ago. Ah, yes, I remember the scene well. It was a nowhere place in the midst of a vast nothingness on a stage too small to accommodate all of Tom’s equipment much less my drum kit. Said manager—

… he wasn’t as tall as he tried to appear, he wore thin suits even though it was miserably cold outside, and he carried a clipboard so he wouldn’t forget his speech, to wit:

… “I wish to inform you both that I have just informed” (checks clipboard, reads off name of the sub-agent working for our agent) “that I will be firing you both, jointly and severally,  effective last night.”

It was the kind of speech that made me blink before I responded, but if’n I know me, I likely quipped something about “will be firing us last night?” while Tom’s cocked eyebrow clearly conveyed, “What the fuck??”

Just one of a few gazillion confirmations that of all the excuses I’ve divined as to why I non-pursued a stand-up career after I could no longer drum, “Your humor is not for everyone” is a Family Feud “Survey-Says” #1 answer.

Which brings me full-circle to my non-social-ality, the bane of the quiet, the listener, the other, despite my big mouth, crude humor, and non-fear of audiences. Studies show that most people’s biggest fear is public speaking, yet many successful, even wildly popular entertainers are introverts. In fact, somebody theoretically got paid to do a study showing introverts claim performance is empowering.

I cannot attest to the paper’s validity—didn’t read it; didn’t even try to discover if it was real. The idea that SOMBODY WOULD GET PAID TO DO A STUDY about introverts and performing absatively derailed me.

To the best of my knowledge, no one has ever studied the correlation between introverts and loud-mouthed nonbinary/transgender assholes whose primary life purpose is to be a mensch. I’d kinda like to be in on that one.

I am one such introvert, the kind for whom performance is empowering. I can stand up and sing in front of any sized audience—and if’n you’d ever heard me, you’d be impressed with my chutzpah. I typically need to prime myself for days to actually dial a phone, yet I spent years making cold calls for everything from electronics to toner to magazine subscriptions to people.

Lest ye assume all the above occurred before I became socially reclusive, nay, nay; “withdrawn” and “verbally challenged” have been on my permanent record from the get-go. But those of us who diverge neurologically, if such a thing exists, typically do so in plain sight. The key during my public days was to not chum it up with customers, patrons, or even wait staff. Smile and nod. Polite but distant.

But I can’t do that on social media! People who respond to what I post seem to expect me to respond to their responses, to… dare I say it?... converse. Good grief! I live in a small house with three other people and often go days without speaking to any of them other than utilitarian exchanges!

Still, it is 2024, closing in on 2025, halfway through the third decade of the twenty-first century of Pope Gregory XIII’s self-named calendar, and I’ve already come out as a loudmouthed nonbinary/transgender introvert. What profit an asshole like moi to gain whole-world communication and lose personal contact?

In for a posting, in for a dialogue, eh?