[That’s a hattip to a slogan from my youth. Almost a koan, really.]

Trust me, it’s not hard to live without Facebook. Quitting cigarettes was much more difficult – and cigarettes are vile and poisonous. A better analogy might be giving up email or the phone (for some, certainly not for me).

It’s not that I’m noticeably healthier (though I have napped more). Nor have I channeled wasted hours into weight-lifting or yoga or reading. In fact, I’ve spent more time blogging in the past week than of late. That’s ironic because fewer people are seeing these blog entries and, if it were possible, even fewer are commenting. (Not a plea for a comment.)

Still, I’m happy here, back where I began, at home on my blog. Stop by again, sometime.

Social networking sites, such as Myspace, Twitter, and Facebook, let you use short messages to update your friends on what you’re doing, your mood, etc. Yes, a status update may say more than anyone cares to know, yet these short “Hello World!” messages do remind everyone you’re still alive.

Visitors to my three blogs may notice – or not – that I’ve incorporated status updates into the header of each blog. (On most blogs, the tagline rarely changes.)  The two of you who use RSS to subscribe to my blogs will still, er, get the benefit of these updates, which are like any other posting, only briefer. (Huzzah!)

I expect to update my status no more than once a day and as little as once a week on each blog. If you want to see all status updates for one blog, there’s a link for that. To see all updates and entries for all blogs – you glutton, you – there’s a link for that, too.

I do miss the interaction in Facebook, where a status update often elicits a response from more than one friend. Out here in the wilderness, these updates may only be greeted by the sound of tumbleweeds blowing and coyotes ululating. Do feel free to comment (just click on the status update in the header) or send email.

Before I leave Facebook, let me tell you what I’ll miss. I enjoy the daily contact I have with my Facebook friends. I feel a connection to them – to you – and their daily activities. At times, I feel I’m at a big party with all my friends, roaming around, listening to different conversations, dropping in and out as I please. Facebook is very different from email and instant messaging. That said, I hope each of my Facebook friends will send me email to make certain I have your address; send me your IM and Skype info, too, if you wish. Because, I won’t be seeing you around Facebook anymore. I’m not breaking up with you but with Facebook. I want to hear from you again.

I won’t miss Facebook’s stream of information that flows relentlessly, carrying important items off the page to be replaced, at time, by trivialities. Everything is equal and transitory in Facebook’s stream. But, in truth, some of what we say is more important than other things. At this point, I forget even the important things that flow away from me. The Web may be rewiring my brain, but I think Facebook is turning it to mush.

I wouldn’t be the first or last to complain about the time Facebook absorbs. If that time were all spent communicating, it might be worthwhile. I’ve enjoyed reading my Facebook friends’ experiences and their real feelings, and appreciated their comments and ‘likes.’ Not so much the polls, games, fads, and other hoops too many of us jump through. Above all, I spend too much time fighting Facebook’s gawd-awful functions. I won’t list my complaints here; I noted many of them as they arose. Remember, I’ve spent my life dealing with computers and software: I’m not easily defeated in this area, and yet, Facebook, you did it. This party I love takes place in an environment I can’t bear any longer. I’ll miss the party, but I gotta get out of this place before in makes me sick.

I do hope you’ll write me now and then. I hope you’ll read my blogs (better: subscribe to the individual RSS feeds or All Mark Considered – if you don’t know how, ask me). I especially hope you’ll see my photos. I still like sharing. You’re welcome to comment on any of these things.

I’ll be watching for the successor to Facebook. I long for a communal gathering place, but I want an oasis, not a stock tank.