As is usually the case with my columns, I’m past deadline.  I either have a very patient, understanding editor, or a gullible one.  In an effort to maintain this extremely tenuous relationship, I’ll opt for the former.  Oh, and add "handsome," too.

At least this time I’ve got a legitimate excuse for being late with my submission.  I’ve been working.  Networking, in fact.  Okay…I’ve spent the better part of my day on Facebook.  It’s work, I swear!

Despite this lack of actually knowing each other, I know more about many of them than I do my own Trophy Wife.  With her, I have to be in the same room, or at the other end of a phone, to know what’s on her mind or what her plans are. Even then, I’m not always sure. She will, of course, go into great detail about anything and everything, relevant or otherwise.  I believe that was part of the marriage contract.

Due to social networking, I know as much about these friends, real or imagined, as they wish to share.  I know when they’re bored, pensive, guilty, hungry, waiting for a flight, a child, an order, looking for work, old friends from summer camp, out for the night or out for a good time.  I know way too much about way too many people. If you’re on any of these sites, you’re probably aware that some people tend to look at the accumulation of friends as a competition.  I do not fall into that category.  There’s a reason I have as few friends as I do (is it their choice or mine?).

I suppose my real-life friends accept me, warts and all. There are not a lot of people who can tolerate a curmudgeon like me for an extended amount of time.  Online, you can take me in whatever size dose you choose, for as long as you want. Regardless of my stand-offish attitude, I still get requests from strangers, asking to link to me or become my friend.  I will admit that, in some cases, I have accepted their invitations, figuring that there might just be some way for me to benefit.  Let there be no question: I am NOT above using people!

I suppose that sociologists have already done any number of studies about this phenomenon.  I don’t care that much where I have to do any research.  I am, however, curious as to why I have so many friends online, as opposed to maybe four (maybe a stretch) in real life.

At any rate…any number of times during the course of an average business day, I must get interrupted several dozen times by notes or instant messages coming through these sites.  More often than not, it seems that these interruptions are jokes, or comments about some of the musical selections I’ve posted (rumor has it that new music continued to be recorded into the 21st  century).  Then the oddest thing started to happen.

With a simple update of my personal information (for someone as anti-social and private as I am, I share an awful lot of information!), I began to get inquiries about what I’m doing now.  There was so much buzz and questioning about my new venture that, lo and behold, actual business started to get accomplished! Industry contacts, whether we knew each other well or not, began requesting information about large quantities of this or that.  Opportunities which otherwise might not have crossed my desk suddenly became available.

What’s that all about?  Next thing I knew, I was being invited into some chat groups and onto industry bulletin boards.  People seemed interested in what I had to say.  Suddenly, I’m one of the popular kids in school!

Not to worry; I doubt that you’ll see me crossing over to the sunny side any time soon.  I’ve got too many years of crankiness invested in this character I’ve written for myself.  And as far as those people with whom I went to high school suddenly reaching out to me…when will they realize that we lost contact for a reason?

Mike Schenker, MAS, is a partner in the international sourcing company Custom InterSource, LLC .  A past president of SAAGNY, he has over 25 years of experience in the promotional products industry.  He can be reached via e-mail: MSchenker@CustomInterSource.com.

Published in Identity Marketing Magazine. Used with permission.