Too Much Information

Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't want to know the color of my aura.

I don't want to know which "Gilligan's Island," "Brady Bunch," "Lost," "X-Files," "I Dream of Jeannie" or "My Mother the Car" character I am.

I don't want to know how compatible I am with others' movie, music, TV, video game, fashion or paint chip selections.

I most certainly don't want to hunt for Easter eggs.

I don't want to be poked, super-poked, ultra-poked, mega-poked, nano-poked or Pokemoned.

I don't want to know how evil, happy, stressed, ditzy, marginalized, uninhibited or non-plussed I am.

I don't want to know to what percentage I am conservative, liberal, green, socialist, communist, populist or Whig.

I will not join the million people opposed to changes in Facebook's terms of service, Facebook's privacy settings, Facebook's home page layout or Facebook's font size.

I do not want a drink, highball, cocktail, beer, Shirley Temple, waste oil, chicken blood or toxic Love Canal sludge.

I do not want to join your Mafia clan, pirate brigade, scavenger team, tagger crew, street gang, boy band or barbershop quartet.

I do not want to rank the five essential items I need on a desert island, in my purse, between the cushions on my sofa, stuffed in a glove box, zipped into a body bag, pureed and mixed into a smoothie, or cooked on an engine block on a long journey by automobile.

I don't want a scientifically accurate assessment of my IQ by answering five multiple-choice questions.

However.

I want to be your friend.

I want to see pictures of your kids, your wives, your husbands, your parents, your friends.

I want to see how you look without your glasses, your braces, that mullet, that chronic acne (oh wait, that would be me), the ten pounds of hairspray and Clearasil you applied every morning -- that applies to both the guys and girls, people -- and that a**hole boyfriend whose hand was surgically removed from the back pocket of your jeans two months after graduation.

I want to see if you graduated high school, college, grad school, obedience school, anger management class.

I want to see if you're happier, sadder, more grounded, more religious, more human.

I want to see if you're aging well, so I can assess whether I'm aging well.

To be honest, I want to see if you're more like me, because I want you to see that I'm more like you.

I will, however, take your Flair and kick your rear end at Scrabble.

Game on.