Who's that knocking at my door?

There was a time in the distant past when logging on to my email was a welcome adventure. I didn't know what would be waiting, and the surprise was almost always worth it. This was late 1996, when email was still sort of new and when a day with 10 messages was a busy day.

Now e-mail is something of a chore, a lasso tying me to my obligations, a reminder I check by rote.

But I've been getting that same feeling of excitement I got back in '96 again, this time from this little guy:


When someone friends me on facebook, I have no idea who it might be. What part of my past will they remind me of? I like that feeling, but I can't help but see the writing on the wall -- facebook too shall pass.