Chronicles of a Social Media Peepaw

Daily writing prompt
How do you use social media?

DAILY PROMPT RESPONSE

Episode 1: Apparently, I’m “Doing It Wrong”

I don’t know how to use social media. That’s not false modesty—it’s a fact. And my grandkids make sure I never forget it.

“Peepaw, I just don’t understand,” is something I hear far too often, usually after I’ve posted something harmless like a photo of my cat licking a plate of spaghetti. The photo’s blurry (again), the caption’s too long, and apparently I’m using hashtags like I just discovered them yesterday. Which, to be fair, I kind of did.

What really riles them up are those blurry photos. “You literally have a good camera!” they protest, as if I’m dishonoring a sacred artifact. And they’re not wrong. I do have a good camera—it’s a sturdy old DSLR that doesn’t connect to the cloud, but it’s seen more family moments than most smartphones. It just takes a little work to upload. That’s what USB cables are for, right?

And let’s not forget—they got their start in tech by watching me work. I had wires running through the garage office before they could spell “HTML.” I was the one patching together PCs, fixing drivers, and explaining what RAM was. Now they’ve got degrees and job titles like “UI/UX designer,” and suddenly I’m the tech-challenged grandparent who needs an intervention.

I never set out to be the cool grandpa. I just wanted to share a few thoughts. Maybe post a picture of my chili (my chili is the truth). I wanted to cheer them on when they land a new job or adopt another rescue dog. But apparently, there are rules—unspoken, constantly shifting rules—and I’m breaking all of them.

That’s okay. I’ve made peace with being their favorite internet punchline. If “Peepaw doesn’t get it” gives them something to laugh about, I’m happy to play the part.

Besides, this is just the beginning. There’s a whole internet out there for me to misunderstand.


Sounding my poetic yelp!

How do you use social media?

Lost within the traps of my mind
Crazy, because I placed them
to protect me from the madness

running from trap to trap
like, I’m hooked on pain
my screams melodic

Every line I write
another attempt to release
the pain coursing through me

SO…

I write the blues
because I lived them
facing the everlasting memories

Don’t think less of me
if all I can do is sit here and cry
without you, who am I supposed to me

My words come from my soul
of all the things I do wrong
this is the only thing you can’t deny

Do you remember me,
like I remember you?

The night you came to me
back when we were just friends
back when all we were was an unspoken desire

By the state of you
I had no idea where you had been
I had no idea what you needed

You leaned into me and started to cry
My love could comfort you
all you had to do was let me try

in Frustration

I silently scream

Now, I sound my poetic yelp!


~thank you for reading~