Author's note: If you want a break from all the drama surrounding silver, manipulation, possible WWIII, you might want to read Catcher in the Rye ... Or maybe not ... A departure from my usual column fare.
My wife told me I’m posting too much about Syria, inflation, gold, silver and the dollar on Facebook.
I’m guilty I guess. What I sometimes do is read an article on one of these topics and then hit “like” on my Facebook button. Sometimes I add a comment such as “This is interesting” or “this is scary,” or “I agree with this author” or “Aghhh!”
My little posts generate, on average, zero replies. Well, one sweet girl who used to work for me will usually click “like” after I’ve posted my posts, but I’ve noticed that she likes everyone’s comments. She’s a serial “liker” (although I do appreciate her support and am glad that I once employed her.)
In one of my last posts I tried to interject a little humor to see if this might generate feedback from my Facebook friends.
What I did was make a post in the “voice” of Holden Caulfield, the protagonist of the famous novel The Catcher in the Rye.
My wife, a high school English teacher, will soon be teaching this novel to her students. Since I’d never read it, I decided to join her students in this assigned reading.
Anyway, my Facebook post railed about all the “phonies” in the world and revealed that I was “really depressed” that everyone was ignoring my posts about “gold and silver and stuff” and that my wife wanted me to post about what I ate for lunch and the latest episode of “American Idol” or whatever.
“This makes me sad. It really does,” I wrote in conclusion.
See, I was talking like Holden Caulfield talks (or how he writes since the guy who talks in the book is the same guy who wrote the dang book). Nobody got this though. They really didn’t.
My wife had to go back and add her own reply: “These are refences to The Catcher in the Rye,” she wrote. She really wrote this. You can look it up. My wife loves me. She really does.
What happened is that a few people took me seriously. They thought I was really upset with my wife and was really depressed, when I really wasn’t. What I was trying to do was be funny. But no one understood. They really didn’t.
“Bill, ever since 7th grade, you’ve always been interested in politics and economics and current events,” said this one friend, old Barbara. “Keep on posting what you’re posting!”
I guess you can tell that I lied earlier when I said no one had replied to my posts. I’m really a huge liar if you want to know the truth. I’m actually quite terrible about it. For example, old Barbara DID reply to my post.
But she was about the only one who added a “comment.” About a million people hit the “like” button, but that’s not the same thing as making a comment. Any phony can click “like” when they really don’t like it.
They are just trying to be nice or something. They are probably just saying what they think people want to hear. I’m not saying they are real liars like me, but it’s something I can’t help thinking about sometimes. When I think about all these people clicking “like” all the time, it makes me so depressed it’s like someone just punched me in the gut or something. It really is.
Anyway, I told my baby sister, Phoebe, that I’m not going to hitch hike out west and work at a dude ranch after all.
This made her so happy she started talking to me again. I told her what I really want to do is find some giant field of beautiful, waving rye where a bunch of kids like Phoebe are playing. At the end of this field is a big cliff and an Apple desktop computer.
I would sit at this computer and post all of my thoughts about the economy and gold and the dollar and stuff. If kids were sad about these things, my posts might make them happy again.
I told her what I really want to do - what I really want to be - is be the poster in the rye.
I wouldn’t even have to talk to anyone, using words and all. Or spoken words anyway. I could just type things.
If the kids liked what I typed, they could type “like.” Or they could type “unlike” or nothing at all. I really don’t care.
If you want to know the truth, this is the kind of stuff I think about sometime. I really do.
I told all this to my psychoanalyst in this book I’m writing while I stay at this place my parents put me and he said this was a good start, whatever that means. He said I just need to “follow through.”
I told him I certainly would, but I was really just telling him what he wanted to hear if you want to know the truth. How do I know if I’m really going to follow through?
This really gets me. People wanting to know if you are going to follow through on something when you don’t even know yourself. How could you really know until you do it?
Anyway, I’m going to stop posting on Facebook about gold and silver and inflation and stuff.
I act like I know what’s going to happen, but I really don’t. I’ve already told you I lie a lot and don’t know what the heck I’m talking about.
When I do talk about it, or when I write about it, it depresses me terribly. Probably depresses other people too.
“Old Rice. What a phony,” they probably say when they read my posts. Anyway, I don’t blame other people for ignoring my Facebook comments. I really don’t.
But I’m glad I read this book my wife is teaching. Everyone says it’s the best book ever and all, and I guess they must know what they are talking about.
If I was on Facebook and read this book, I would probably type “like” when I was done.
But to tell you the truth, I didn’t understand it at all. It was different I guess. I’ll give old Salinger credit for that. Wasn’t like old Shakespeare or old Twain. It had some stuff about “phonies” that I liked, but nothing much happens in the story. That’s my only problem with this book if you want to know the truth.
I like stories where something happens and it’s not just, you know, the ramblings of some crazy kid.
If old Holden was really some great literary hero or something, he would have bought silver and made posts about the Fed or something.
This is what I really think. Instead, he just feels sad about things and tells lies and flunks out of schools and ends up in a hospital.
Not to say he’s not an okay guy, old Holden. At least he’s honest about all the lies he tells. And he’s sad because he lost his brother and he has a crush on a girl that goes out with his phony roommate.
Even though you sometimes feel like you want to punch Old Holden in the gut, you still feel kind of bad for him and even miss him a little when the book is over.
But he’s certainly nobody to write a book about or anything. I mean seriously. I hope he grows up and enjoys that ham and rye sandwich he dreams about, but I certainly wouldn’t waste my time reading about him.
If some kid or some professor asked me if I wanted to read a story about a person like this, I would have to say, “No, I wouldn’t.” I really wouldn’t.
... Unless my wife asked me to. In which case I would. I really would.
Bill Rice, Jr. is managing editor of The Montgomery Independent. He can be reached via email at bill@montgomeryindependent.com
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