Like heartburn after eating my Yiayia’s stifado that was made with way too many pearl onions for the longest time, I feel my antera burning every time I hear the word Facebook.

I understand that as a business owner there are benefits with exposure, and on a personal level, it’s nice that you can skype, tweet and send a picture or a video of your kids marching in the Greek parade to theio Taki in Sydney Australia but it just isn’t my thing.

I’ve been holding it in for way too long thinking that maybe just maybe Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram would be hacked by Vladimir Putin and disappear forever for matters of national security but that turned out to be wishful thinking on my part.

I don’t want to participate in all of the Greek drama, watch videos of dogs that go to the grocery store and come back to their owners with 8 oz plastic containers of tzatziki, and I don’t want birthday wishes from people I don’t know. Besides wasting my time (and yours) with my every move by sharing pictures of my wife’s killer makaronia me kima to see how many “likes” I get? No way. They’re my makaronia, and I don’t want anyone near them.

It seems to me like Facebook to a Greek is what feta is to a Greek salad, an absolute necessity since there are something like 10 million patriotes, many of which await like hawks on a tree limb that scan the grounds of a park on the lookout for a squirrel munching on an acorn are constantly on their smartphones glued to social media stalking others’ every move. Post a picture, and within seconds you get a response from those who can’t wait to “like” or post a comment on your “wall.”

Social media is full of Greek neo-philosophers who find an inspiring quote floating around on the internet and then repost it telling the whole world what the true meaning of friendship and life is. What can I say, my existence was meaningless until I got inspired from some of these sayings. Thanks to them I learned that when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade and not avgolemono soup.

Just shut the front door will ya?

Then, you have all the Greeks and their fake news with the conspiracy theories about globalization, and how the whole world is against us with the Americans and the Israelis trying to vanish Hellenism from the face of the earth, just so that they can get to all the natural gas that’s buried under the rocks of your village in Greece.

Facebook has it’s share of Greek holistic doctors as well. Did you know that if you drink a half a cup of Greek extra virgin olive oil with a tablespoon of Ikarian honey and some fresh rosemary first thing every morning, you can prevent Alzheimer’s, prostate cancer and sexually satisfy a half dozen women in one night? Add Greek oregano and fig preserves from Kalamata to the concoction, and when you wake up in the morning, you can push an 18 wheeler that’s loaded with containers of olives from Sparta to the Albanian border without breaking a sweat.

Next we have those that find the need to tell us that they’re eating lamb chops with skordalia sauce and keftedakia in Chicago’s Greek Town complete with a dropped pin on a map, followed by pictures of their meze plates and then the all important group photo of the parea of the Greek cousins that nobody outside the city’s limits knows.

I just want to ask these people one question, “why?” Now don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you, and I understand that you want to show the whole world the size of the lamb chops, but I don’t know who you are or anyone in the group photo so why on earth would you be sending me the pictures?

Then we have all of those pictures of Greeks dancing on tables at the Hatzigiannis concert with a drink in hand and the overpriced bottle of vodka in the middle of the table showing everyone what a great time they’re having and that bad amateur video of the singer on stage singing his latest hit. But it doesn’t stop there, oh no, we also get a video of someone in the group who passed out from all the alcohol advertising their hangover as if they’re the only ones that had one too many whiskey shots that night, nobody else. You know, it’s only a matter of time before your Greek dad finds out and then there goes the car, the cellphone, and the allowance.

I understand that many have found happiness finding their other half from social media but that picture you think makes you look cool with the dark shades in front of the mirror is laughable, to say the least.

Pictures of your new convertible and that huge engagement ring you bought your girl also have to go. Sorry for being honest but people laugh at that also, and you’d be better off if you kept it to yourself.

As far as you being in a relationship” “just engaged” “available” and “recently divorced” etc. I just want you to know that it’s not news to me. My theia Toula has already told my Mom Voula who in turn fills me in on everything during morning coffee.

“Do you remember Thanasis from the Peloponnesian society?”
“No Mom I don’t.”
“He had three boys, Giorgo, Niko, and Yianni?”
“I don’t recall Mom.”
“Yianni I think is your age, Niko is a year or two older, and Giorgo is your sister’s age?”
The moment that it’s ok to lie to your mother has just arrived
“Yes, Yes I remember them.”
“Well, Yianni left his wife and ran off with a younger woman that he got pregnant”.

HA! Who needs Facebook!