I live in a small town. And I was born in a small town. I’ll probably die in a small town… etc. John Cougar lyrics, yada yada yada.
Julie and I moved to Richmond, back to the place I spent most of my youth, in August of this year. We are moderately involved in the community, since we spend our work days driving to Oxford. But there’s one place where we’re pretty well connected: a private Facebook group that is only marginally private that is meant to be for important talk about Richmond.
The discussion there, however, centers on four things:
- People either praising or berating local restaurants and/or complaining about service
- The “small business” day where people can post advertisements
- People looking for jobs who then ignore all the jobs people post
- Personal feuds
The last factor here is the most interesting. One night a man who had been accused of child molestation and abuse spent two hours arguing with the parent of a three-year-old that lived across the street from him. The child apparently flipped this guy the old Larry Bird when the guy told the kid not to play in the street. So the guy then taped the kid and himself exchanging profanities. The guy pointed out repeatedly in the argument that while he’d been accused the charges were going to be dismissed and we’d read about it in the paper.
In the paper the next day, sure enough.
But yeah, potential child molester arguing for hours with the mother of a 3 year old he video taped giving him the finger.
There was another occasion where someone claimed to be the movers and convinced a landlord to open someone’s house. The person then stole everything of value and left the rest of the tenant’s belongings on the lawn. Numerous people proclaimed the thief–who was TAGGED and part of the discussion– a lowlife (and worse). He claimed to know nothing of what happened. But in Richmond, people video tape hard with their phones. And the evidence was uploaded.
There was also a day where someone went to the local breakfast joint and the server didn’t give him his dime with his change, so he lit into her, didn’t give her a tip, and tried to burn her life on the internet. Lots of people agreed that forgetting to put that dime on the table was a sin of the worst possible sort. Which is only made more amusing by the fact that the last time I was on the parking lot of said place I found numerous quarters on the ground that none of the customers could bother to bend over and pick up (you’re welcome for the $1.25, March of Dimes).
My favorite little quirk on the site is the current con job a new pizza joint is running. This prestigious and private uber-Facebook group has an ironclad “you can only advertise on Thursday” rule. But this new pizza place– it figured out an elegant loophole. Almost every day, someone posts almost the exact same praise of the place, complete with a picture of a pizza on the same table, from the same angle, comments on how busy it was, but how they got their food in about 10-2o minutes, and how any of a number of local competitors better “step it up” or “up their game” or “rise to the occasion.”
Basically, it’s #Pizzagate. Someone is manipulating the group to get more pizza hits. I won’t say who because my huge Richmond blog audience might read it and I’d give the place free advertising and the ability to claim the well respected Alexander Bump (which is also my favorite dance move). So if you need pizza in Richmond, stay loyal and go to Clara’s Pizza King. They’ve been making great pizza for years and years. Don’t be persuaded by bad iPhone seven photos of Noble Romans grade pies. Royal Feast + BBQ is the word.
This Facebook group, though, conforms to something I like to call the Second Life Effect. Quick note: in a job talk, I once got called out by someone for naming phenomena I observe. I call that the “Sorry no one writes about Milton No More Dispensation” It’s fun to coin names for things, and hey, Burke made a whole career out of calling “you see stuff different than I do” a “terministic screen” and using something we learn when we’re right around three years old as high theory. I’m trying to hustle up that big-time rhetoric changing concept we all knew was happening but didn’t name. And I’m trying to be funny. I call that the Like Bill O’Reilly’s Career Hilarium. Because it’s sort of funny… to people who think like me. Stuck up conservative people just sigh and wish it never happened. I digress.
Back to the Second Life Effect, though. Second Life was, in many ways, the dream of many people my age. What if we had a thing that was “like” a video game, but it gave complete freedom for us to shape it? What might we do? Oh… the possibility.
But when Second Life happened, there were:
- People hustling money
- People trying to grift people in illegitimate hustles
- People harassing other people
Annnnnnnnd… - Lots and lots of fetishized porn content, which came to a head (pun intended) when a CNET televised event was interrupted by a flying, speaking hot pink penis. And yes, I did google “CNET Second Life Interrupted Penis” to make sure my memory was correct, and no, you do NOT want to see the image results. Just trust me on this one.
Now the Facebook group I speak of isn’t a second world. I’m not claiming that it offers a Second Life-like freedom. And the person who administrates it would never allow it to become overrun with porn or hook-ups.
Unless you want to hook up with a delicious chunk of pizza porn. Clara’s better show a little more skin, because it’s suns out pizza guns out with the new place!
Otherwise, though… look at what I told you the group does. There are people hustling. People grifting. People harassing other people.
And people looking for jobs, which I guess is pre-hustling.
So perhaps the reality of America circa 2017 is that given the freedom to do anything, what most people want to do is:
- Get the money
- Get the money
- Get the money
- Be mean
- Be destructive
- Hump pizza
For me, it’s amusing. Because most of the people on that group don’t know or remember me (I was never cool, in school, I’m sure you don’t remember me… and now it’s been 20 years I’m still wondering who to beeeeee…), but I see familiar faces every now and then. At least once a day.
I know that the two biggest fallacies are that nothing ever changes and that everyone changes, because the truth is in the middle.
The people I recognize from that Facebook group haven’t changed a bit.
Me? I’m almost unrecognizable from the days when I knew them. I was the tall quiet guy who in spite of being one of the best academic students at school was remembered for the blocked basketball shot that caused me to pretty much destroy my knee. Everyone expected I’d leave when I graduated (and I did, to go in a big ass triangle to Bloomington, south to Oxford then back through Richmond up to Okemos, back down through Richmond to Oxford (again) and back. Now I’m burly and extremely well-read, I don’t try to pass and I don’t bite my tongue like I used to.
Everything is different, but nothing has changed.
Not the people. I mean the faces, but not the people.
And the pizza. Oh, the sweet, sweet new pizza. I went in that new place today, and it was really busy but I still instantly found a table. My food was to me in like 10 or 11 or 12 but definitely less than 20 minutes, and it was hot and so delicious that here’s a picture of the pizza with only one slice missing to indicate how much I ate (photo redacted). La Rosas down in Oxford better kick that orange juice to the curb and man up to whale cancer because there’s a new Rosa in the La.
Maybe at some point among the memes and the complaints and the Yelp! reviews and the YouTube blog about how much you like the new Taco Bell Taco Burrito Hybrid Blaster, remember that you’re using a technology that allows you to find almost any information you could ever want. Realize that you could talk to people on the other side of the world.
So tell them where to get the best new pizza, damnit.
#priorities