It's My Day. It's Mine!

     As some of you are aware, a few short weeks back I had yet another birthday, as I do about once a year. Undertaking such a task is a lot of hard work, and many people actively discourage it as an act of self-destruction, but I went ahead and did it anyway, because I am, by all accounts, a stubborn ox of a human being, as well as a fan of unnecessarily long sentences that never seem to end, even though they eventually will, if one is patient and gives them enough time to properly make their point. As birthdays go, it went pretty well. There was food I was not required to pay for or prepare, a present or two, and libations, and so on. Also included were a number of phone calls and various other sentiments of pleasantness about my continued existence, and so on some more. The day ended well, and I reflected on the successful completion of another year, and so on one more time.
     It wasn't until a few days later that a new bit of information wrought these delusions of a world that wasn't so bad (which from me is pretty high praise) into a jagged, warped, shattered mass at my feet, leaving the true horrific nature of the world once again so clearly visible. New information often does this to people, which is so many people fear change. And the future. And science. And other people. And-
     Anyway, what I learned post-birthday is that some terrible presence, of whose existence I was previously only vaguely aware, and of whose purpose I was wholly and happily ignorant, had designated my birthday as some atrocity by the name of Social Media Day. Let me see if I can truly express my feeling about this for you.
     Have you ever been so apoplectic that you had to fight the primal urge to scream like a Celt charging into battle, naked save for some blue paint and blood-lust, because the volume required to express said amount of rage would cause you to vomit up your insides and die?
     Social Media Day? Social. Media. Day!? Since when, I ask, I inquire, I Demand to know, do we need a day to appreciate the existence, the incursion, of social media in our lives? That's like having a special day to celebrate blinking, or coleslaw. Sure, they have their uses, or at least blinking does, but a special day to express our gratitude for them? Nay, I growl through gritted teeth.
     Nay.
     Oh, and just how dare they, How Dare They, designate my birthday as the day to do so! What vileness, what meanness, what outrageous malefaction! This is an outright act of aggression upon my person, and I will not suffer it without response, which I have prepared, and will present to you now.
     From this day forward, the thirtieth day of June will not only be known as my birthday, though it be widely known that this is accolade enough (can't help that), but it shall be known also as Anti-social Media Appreciation Day. On this day, all are encouraged to not only eschew the use of social media, but instead to enjoy such media that does not particularly encourage socialization.
     In other words, quietly read a book for a little while.
     Allow me to be clear; I appreciate the way my social media portal fills up with well wishes punctuated by exclamation marks. I do. But I think I would appreciate it even more if I knew that a collection of people were intentionally setting aside some time to quietly read a book on that same day. Given my affection for them, it seems a pretty well chosen gift, even if I had to be tacky and ask for it myself.
     And if your appreciation for me is simply unsatisfied by this quiet display, feel free to send me a real card in the real mail. You could even throw ten bucks in it if you like, so that I can finally get that robot vacuum. It's been like two years, people.
     Come on.
-John