“Are you on Facebook?” I recently asked a friend of mine.

“God, no,” she said. “Are you?”

“Ummm, yeah,” I said, feeling vaguely ashamed.

Immediately, I began making excuses. I explained that I’d originally joined Facebook for work, so that I could find sources for news articles more easily. I said that friends kept inviting me to be their Facebook friends, and that it seemed kind of rude to ignore these requests. I said it wasn’t so much that I wanted to be on Facebook, but that at this point being on Facebook was easier than not being on Facebook.

My reaction was a bit silly. Being on Facebook is nothing to be ashamed of; the online social network has approximately 90 million users. But I’ve always been something of a technophobe, with a built-in resistance to acquiring or dealing with new technology until I absolutely have to. “Why do I need a cellphone?” I used to wonder. “What’s wrong with being unavailable sometimes?”

A few years back I finally broke down and got a cellphone, and of course now I love having a cellphone, and not just because it makes it easier for me to screen calls and ignore people.

I got a laptop, and I like it, and if I got a digital camera, I’m sure I’d like that, too, but I’m going to continue holding out until CVS stops processing film or someone gives me an old digital camera. (I got the laptop through a similar act of charity).

What’s the point again?

The truth is, for a long time I didn’t really understand the point of Facebook. At least, not for me, because I pretty much keep in touch with every friend I’ve ever had, which is why my friends call me The Correspondent. (“You are The Correspondent,” these people say, admiringly, as if writing self-absorbed e-mails at 1 in the morning actually takes skill). I keep in touch with people I went to kindergarten with, and summer camp, as well as college friends and high school friends and friends from my first job.

Why do I feel so compelled to keep in touch with all of these people? I have no idea, but I suspect some kind of trauma set in when my parents forced me to move to a new town when I was 14, and it’s manifested as a near-obsession with keeping in touch with my friends.

I’ve always enjoyed being The Correspondent, but it does require a certain amount of effort and curiosity, which is why I never saw the need to join Facebook and acquire a bunch of virtual friends to add to my correspondence load. And it wasn’t like I needed Facebook to reconnect with my long-lost friends, because I didn’t have any. At least, that’s what I thought.

Then I received a Facebook friend request from a guy I worked with at Colonial Deli Mart, a convenience store/gas station, in high school. I had fond memories of the hours we spent selling lottery tickets and making sandwiches, and the friend request was a delight: an unexpected shout-out from someone I hadn’t heard from or thought about in years, but genuinely liked and was happy to hear from.

Because this guy now lives in Portland, Maine, near my parents, my sister and I were able to have dinner with him earlier this month. It was interesting to see how he had filled out and changed, but he was as nice and funny as ever, and we had a good time. I reminded myself that if I hadn’t joined Facebook, I never would have reconnected with him.

Momentary contact

So I guess I can see the point of Facebook, though there are aspects of Facebook culture that continue to baffle me. For instance: A month ago an old high school classmate I barely remembered and couldn’t recall ever having a conversation with shot me a friend request. It struck me as strange, but whatever, I shot back a quick reply: “So, what have been up to since 1994?” I eagerly awaited a response, but never got one. It’s been that way with a few other people, and I’ve tried to comprehend why you’d bother reaching out to someone and then refuse to engage in even the most cursory exchange of information.

But most of my Facebook interactions have been pretty positive, and maybe it was a bit foolish to think that I could just decide that I didn’t need more people in my life. As The Correspondent, I’ve learned that it’s impossible to predict where staying in touch with old friends will lead, but I do know that I’ve never regretted the hours I’ve spent sending e-mail and talking on the phone.

Even so, I’ve drawn a few lines in the sand. I’m not logging into Facebook multiple times a day, playing Scrabble with my Facebook friends or scribbling little messages on their Facebook walls, but who knows? Maybe someday I’ll see the point.