Yesterday on Facebook, my friend Jamey posted a 25 second video of the moon and Jupiter; the only movement was from his hands, steadying his iPhone.
I watched all 25 seconds of it. There was something marvelous and amazingly sweet about this, and I can't quite put my finger on what it is that I find so enchanting, but the fact of posting on a social networking site a 25 second video of the moon and Jupiter makes me smile, and smile again. And again.
Maybe it's about the constancy of the moon and planets, and the relative-recentness of social networking — liable to shift to the next and newest incarnation of itself or something else entirely— that makes this so remarkable. I mean, there's not much new about the moon and Jupiter, while
Facebook (as a metaphor for modern technology), in comparison, is as new as spring's first blade of grass.
And then there's my friend, who is the epitome of understatement and nuance. No shouting out the news from Jamey. The news will arrive in its own good time, no rushing-it, please.
And there is the right-now aspect of Facebook, the read-it-now component of whatever it is you want to say and have known. Tomorrow it will not only be old news, but disappeared news, all things considered.
But the moon? And Jupiter? On any clear night, from whatever orientation you claim as your own, chances are you'll find at least one of them, or Venus, or Mars, old reliable friends shining their old reliable lights minus fanfare, minus the Big Parade that Facebook marches out every day for our viewing pleasure, or, er, displeasure, whatever the case may be.
So I say thank-you to my friend Jamey, for reminding me that friends like him — the tried and true — are as constant as the moon, and Jupiter, holding reliably steady in a universe of infinite changeability.