Facebook is Dying. You Can Blame (Thank?) GenX

Tina Drakakis

It’s coming, you know. Most of us can already feel it.

Facebook is dying on the vine and my people are behind it. My people are, of course, the all-powerful GenX. We brought the fledgling platform to its frenzied summit and now my fellow ladies raised on Rizzo will be sipping our badass beers (no koozies, no White Claws) with cool indifference as Facebook folds to its knobby knees with our negligence. So long, Zuck, it’s been good to know ya.

Think about it. My GenX was the true force behind Facebook. When it surfaced, we were moms of a certain age who suddenly had a personal billboard and public sounding board.  Every school concert, every scored touchdown, every take down of a teacher, local handyman and societal injustice was shared with aplomb. 

We were thrilled and angry and offended and #blessed and we needed everyone to know.  That’s right, the women whose own mothers didn’t attend one spelling bee or PTA meeting were ALL IN with promoting their kids and chaotic lifestyles.

It was hardly ironic – an unsupervised generation going berserk on a public podium. We became unapologetic town criers. Imagine that. We took Facebook under our wing without compromise and away we went, post after post into online ubiquity.

Where’s the surprise? My GenX forever drank the Kool-Aid and we were always all about the fun. Hell, we chewed Freshen Up gum – gum that literally squirted mouthwash – to hide the fact we were drinking after school in junior high. We were the perfect posse to get this newfangled party platform off the ground. I’d say we did it proud.

But it’s gotten weird. And tedious. And the cool kids are leaving the cafeteria.

For starters, our kids are older now. They’ve all aged out of our competitive mom leaderboard and have all moved on to ordinary adult stuff. Without their Honor Roll status or homerun updates or promposals the daily drone has become even too lame for us. Once we figured out how to mute all our political kook frenemies we were left with a constant scroll of ads, recipes, yard sales and restaurant opinions.  Borrrrrring. 

But far worse than the residual snoozefest? The mf hackers.

I was standing in a funeral home when my phone buzzed. Checking it, I stared down in horror. It was a notification alerting me that I’d received a Facebook friend request – from the funeral service I was literally standing in. Stunned, I discreetly brought it to the funeral director and asked if this was some type of service they provided. He shook his head sadly and said, no, it happens a lot. How utterly horrifying.

A month later, my husband’s Facebook account was hacked and it became the biggest nightmare imaginable. Now it seems the hacks are popping up faster and more frequently.

Shame on you, Facebook.

It takes a lot to turn off GenX. I mean, a lot.  We are loyal to a fault. If we like something, we’ll keep it around forever. Don’t believe me? There is a 24-hour General Hospital channel on television. We do not screw around with our loyalty.

But you blew it, Facebook. You had us in the palm of your hands – an easily charmed group that obsessively played Pong (PONG! - two lines and a moving square boinking across a screen) for hours. We contently bounced a simple pink Spalding against a brick wall or cement sidewalk for days. We do not give up easily.

In fact, our trademark is specifically giving infamy to things we refuse to give up on. What? Skinny jeans are out, you say? Joke’s on you – we never threw them out the first time we heard that. Back into the closet they go - even the blasphemed acid-washed - until Kylie or Taylor says the coast is clear again.

We may be afraid of our kids now (Mom, do NOT post that), but that’s only because we need them to retrieve our passwords and program our smart TVs. We are definitely not afraid of Mark Zuckerberg. Please. He’s no Frisco Jones or Noah Drake. He and his hackers can go find some baggy jeans.

So sorry, Facebook, it’s not looking good. When GenX loses interest, it’s a death knell for sure. And as soon as our kids show us how to master the next big thing, we’ll be gone for good.

Everybody knows and people are talking: our breakup looms.

Tina Drakakis' work has been featured in the Boston Globe Magazine, HuffPost and the Boston production of “Listen to Your Mother: Giving Motherhood a Microphone."  She blogs at Eyerollingmom and tries valiantly to keep up with social media @eyerollingmom and https://linktr.ee/TinaDrakakis