Or should I say, plastic culture?

Disposability seems to be the keyword these days. Disposable pens. Disposable containers. Disposable clothes. And disposable people.

Don’t get me wrong. Some things are supposed to be disposable. I am not the type to keep all sorts of memos; I’m no Sherlock. And if I did that, it’s very likely I’d have already drowned in seas of papers that I’ve written on. Information is paramount in my family, which means that there are sheets and sheets of information written in various hands, located haphazardly throughout the house. A book there, a memo here, some random receipt on the piano, a post-it note from seven years ago stuck on my Bach. But that’s not the point.

The point is, things are getting too disposable.

Maybe this is just a trend occurring in the very consumerist countries. But of course, I haven’t really lived in any country but first-world, which are all becoming very consumerist. Expensive items bought cheaply, hen thrown away as soon as it’s not functional seems to be the keyword nowadays; “fixing and using” seems to be completely out of option. So there goes the cobbler that I used to frequent.I’m all for mending shoes, since many of them are good leather and I’ve worn them for years, and it is a rather common knowledge that leather shoes fit to your feet and undoubtedly become “your shoes”; meaning, they are fitted to your feet and no one else’s. But If the current cobbler that I frequent decides to close shop, I’m in serious trouble.

Shoes are one thing. But what about people?

I’ve had friends for years. Some date back to when I was still in year three. I’ve kept (semi) regular correspondence, a letter now and then, a phone call… and they know me well enough to keep in touch, despite my ups and downs that make my correspondence rather haphazard in frequencies. Relationships aren’t very disposable for me, and I’m the kind who remembers my year 1 class – everybody – by name. (Oddly enough, I don’t remember 99% of my high school class. Goes to show just how much I disliked that school, but that’s for another day.)

But that’s me; and that’s only with a handful that I’ve come to cross paths with, out of hundreds. And I mean hundreds. With the advent of Facebook, suddenly it became very easy to keep in touch… but it also meant that it was well nigh impossible for the most to keep in touch with those who didn’t. And ever since I joined the latter group, my “friends” list – a misnomer, if there ever was one – has been whittled down to about six out of six hundred. That’s 1% of the friends list. It appears, in the end, that “friends” now mean those who update regularly on Facebook, or those who have regular parties with you.

But to be entirely honest, I don’t consider those people to be “friends”. “Friends” are those who come to your rescue when you feel you are all alone and desolate, and we all have those times. “Friends” are those who remind you that they are there when you’re quite sure they’ve forgotten about you. And when it comes to that – most fail.

But surely those relationships that one had to resurrect on Facebook died for a reason. Perhaps either party wasn’t committed to keeping the relationship alive; perhaps common interest was no longer common; but the reason is there. You don’t just fall out with people for no reason. As long as each party is committed, and as long as both parties have things in common, friendships can last. Maybe it won’t be as dense; maybe it won’t be as frequent; but it won’t die.

So a friendship died for a reason. Why resurrect it? I’m not entirely sure. I’ve lost touch with James for years, and I don’t really regret it, as all we’ve had in common was school and that commonality ended when I moved away and changed schools. And what exactly is one to talk about with someone you haven’t talked to in years, who have no common interests with you? “Hi, how are you?” “Good” is probably all that the conversation amounts to… and if all you want is that, then you can do that in Starbucks.

Stanford recently released a study that Facebook users are more likely to be miserable and depressed than those who aren’t. I wasn’t surprised; these social networks create a false sense of human contact when all there is are windows into someone else’s life that you most likely won’t have much part in.

Richard Bach once said,

A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends.

Well, then maybe that last farewell you said to the person who sat next to you in year five was the last farewell because of obvious reasons. Beating a dead horse isn’t going to get one anywhere, and continuing to beat it in vain hopes that it might be resurrected is just clinging on false optimism that is bound to crash. We talk about consumerism often and how “bad” it is, but we never stop to consider “why” it’s bad; just that it’s bad. But one needs to know why it’s bad before one stops doing it, and because no one actually considers the why, we continue down the road of falsified relationships that can end with one click.

Message that I receive everyday from the silence of the phone is:

People are disposable. You are disposable.

(Many thanks to all of you who continue to write to me in my utterly selfish campaign to not use electronic communications. Your efforts are very appreciated… and I keep all your letters.)