It’s said that we become adults when we learn the value of sacrifice, and how not to live day to day for extraordinary rewards. Or possibly when we figure out how to not feel guilty about not showing up for the baby showers of people we barely know.
Adulthood is really a series of steps. I’m not sure there’s any one rubicon you cross and say “that’s where I’m no longer a child,” though when you’re young enough you certainly think it at various times. I was fully on my own paying my expenses, not living any with my parents, and footing the bill for college when I was 19 (although my folks did give me a little cash for gas and something to eat when I would visit - thanks!), and I still wasn’t in a position that if a metaphorical house fell on me, I would have to struggle to figure my way out from under it and not be able to rely on anyone else whatsoever. I didn’t run into that situation for several more years.
At nearly 46, there are plenty of times I feel juvenile, at least insofar as society tells me something I like is childish. At 25 you can go to a sci-fi/fantasy convention and dress up as your favorite fictional character and nobody really cares, but when you’re middle-aged, people suddenly raise an eyebrow at the velvet wizard robe and plastic broadsword. (To be fair, it’s only when you stop in at an Arby’s on the way there. But, those working for the Ministry of Magic need to eat, too.)
Of course, this behavior isn’t seen as odd as it was 20 years ago - Marvel and Harry Potter and DC and Disney have permeated the airwaves in such a way as to make being a fan of something and even “fandom” itself nearly everyday terms in mainstream society. It used to be if you wanted to argue the merits of Kirk vs. Picard, you kept that to a convention or during a Star Trek viewing in the sanctuary of your own home. Now if you overhear four people arguing about who has better fighting form - Iron-Man or Captain America - well, it might just be lunchtime at the round table in your small-town diner.
But even in a more forgiving mainstream culture, it still feels like there’s an age cutoff. My Millennial sister doesn’t mind reblogging movie stuff on her Facebook account, where I still feel like I’m about to be caught out at something so childlike and unprofessional that it’ll count against me in some elaborate points system in the sky. Or at least on LinkedIn. (I’m surprised there’s not yet an option on there to the “Somebody viewed your profile today” notification that’s more honest, like “Somebody looked at your CV, but thinks you’re a real tit ... so, bye Felicia.”)
Which is why I stick to “the avatar” for those things.
The avatar is the made-up name you use on the internet on sites where you don’t want to give your real name or details of your life, for safety or career reasons. If you frequent more than two social media sites on the internet, you’ve likely created your own avatar. Some adults do this for the sole purpose of being dicks to others they don’t agree with, or trolling them with deliberately upsetting comments and expletives - but most adults with pseudonyms often create them simply to avoid having their responsible Real Life tied to their whimsical Fan Life.
This should not be confused with leading a double life; it’s just a compartmentalization of interests, tailored to the differing audiences in your life. Real Me has definite opinions on politics and feminism; Fan Me shares those opinions, but the only time it really comes out is in discussions about how either applies to a favorite TV show or movie. Fan Me has explainable opinions on why the last two Star Wars movies might be better than the first three; Real Me might get shot for saying that out loud.
(Ha, ha. I kid. Sweet Greedo, I hope it’s a joke. I’ve seen how the Twitter Star Wars fanboys can treat women, after all.)
Fan Me likes talking at stupid length about, say, the “hidden meaning” of costumes designed for favorite characters I discuss with other fans; Real Me knows my acquaintances would surely imagine me off my gourd. Fan Me can write humorous, quality pieces that make me a very minor rockstar to other fans of the same media; Real Me can’t figure out a plausible way my original characters could possibly alter the tilt of the Earth’s axis four degrees to slingshot it out of its orbit, in the sci-fi novel I’m trying to write.**
Here we are about 25 years into the existence of the publicly accessible internet, and the fact is, there are millions of avatars out there - and there’s no generic profile for the typical Real Yous behind the Fan Yous in cyberspace. People I know in-real-life who have online fannish alter-egos include lawyers, a couple doctors, college professors, business owners, store managers, executive office assistants, film set production assistants, students, baristas, waitresses, published authors, at least one really famous author, legal assistants, accountants, office managers, moms, dads, grandparents, an athlete or two, other journalists, insurance adjusters, elected government officials … there’s hardly any profession that wouldn’t be represented.
I wonder how many members of Congress are on their phone on Tumblr or Twitter checking their avatar accounts during bathroom breaks. And in case you think I’m making this up for a fake justification of normalcy, consider how upstanding, respected white male land-owning officeholders used to write pamphlets and long editorials about each other during and after the American Revolutionary War - under pseudonyms. Sometimes more than one fake name per person. Yes, sometimes the topic was grandiose and important - such as trying to persuade the population of the importance of a Federal Reserve System - but, there were also plenty of trees that died for the sake of being inked with petty, personal squabbles these men had with one another.
You try telling me with a straight face that if smart phones had been around 240 years ago, these dudes wouldn’t have been blasting one another from behind fake Twitter or Instagram accounts. If you believe not, I have a beachfront timeshare on Hoth I know would fit really well into your budget.
September 24, 2018
**No, that’s not its real plot. But wouldn’t it make a great story?