Fear missing out? There’s an app for that

Family Man


 

Oxford defines FOMO (fear of missing out) as “anxiety that an exciting or interesting event may currently be happening elsewhere, often aroused by posts seen on social media.”

So if social media can cause FOMO, why expose yourself to it?

“If I’m sneezing and coughing up the flu,” I asked my 15-year-old son recently, “would you take a drink out of my soda can?”

I’m the father: I’m there to help my kid.

He was on social media getting wind of a possible gathering his friends were sharing without him, and he couldn’t leave it alone.

An old acquaintance who was visiting for the first time since moving away two years ago was the reason for the get-together and, according to my boy’s social media feed, everyone in the group was there . . . except my son.

“You’re drinking the soda,” I said. “You’re swallowing the virus. The germs are entering your body and spreading their nasty illness.”

“I’m not looking, Dad. But they’re all there. Everyone.”

“I thought you weren’t looking.”

“I didn’t look. I was going through my feed and saw this.”

My son was referring to a picture one of his friends had posted of the group at the mall.

“The photo has poor lighting and composition,” he said. “I can’t tell who’s in the back.”

“Well,” said I, the responsible parent, “how can we find out?”

My son dove deeper into the Snapchat social media app he was using by pulling up what kids today call a “Snap Map.” It’s an opt-in function that lets you share your location with friends.

And it looked like a good deal of my son’s friends were at the mall with the out-of-town guest of honor.

“It shows your friends in other states?” I asked. “Jonathan’s in Kansas?”

“Look,” my son said as he zoomed out to see a world map. “Becca’s in Paris!”

“You better not be on this thing,” I told him.

“I’m not.”

“ Good, because nobody should have that info about you. Now let’s see who’s at the mall.”

There were a couple close friends who were not there. One was seen in a car. That’s right: Snapchat knows when a friend is on the move by car or even by plane. It knows a friend is listening to music if the individual’s headphones are plugged in. It knew my son’s best friend was at home.

“See, he’s not at the mall either,” I said.

“His location hasn’t been updated for 50 minutes.”

“He’s your best friend,” I said. “Text and see if he’s with the group.”

“I can’t do that. One time I asked if he wanted to get Panda and he’s like, ‘How do you know I’m hungry for orange chicken? Stop stalking me.’ I’m not gonna stalk him, Dad. I’ll just keep monitoring his Snap Map.”

After about 30 minutes of no activity (OK, maybe 30 seconds), my son texted: Wanna hang out?

The return text: I can’t.

Then came the proof in the pudding. Someone posted a video showing everyone laughing, walking store to store, testing some anti-stress microwavable comfort wrap at a mall kiosk.

“This is why you stay off social media,” I told my son. “Can you feel the chills, the fatigue, fever, loss of appetite, body aches, chest pressure, shortness of breath, swollen lymph nodes—”

“I get it, Dad. But now I know they’re not good friends.

“Now I know I need new friends.”

He texted his “not good” friends and told them how “not cool” they were for not inviting him, especially when there had been an understanding that they’d all hang out with the out-of-town guest of honor when he arrived.

The return text: Paul invited us.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“Paul’s an idiot,” he said. “We don’t get along. It also means you don’t add to someone else’s plans. It’s not cool.”

“So what are you texting now?”

“I’m making plans with them all tomorrow. Without Paul, though.”

Email Picarella at michael. picarella@gmail.com.