A few associations spring to mind when I write the word ‘village’; like that popular sentiment regarding George Bush that says, “It takes a village to raise an idiot.”

And then there were the Village People and I see dance floors filled with people doing dorky YMCA moves, which rivals the chicken dance in how to make us look stupid…in a good way.

The word village also calls up the huts I’ve seen in Malawi, clustered around each other, with tiny paths and cooking fires and tall golden grasses.

And then there are the villages that I think of as Main Street, USA, like something where Atticus Finch and Boo Radley would live.

All this to say, I’ve been wondering about the Facebook Friend thing. People set up professional groups, personal groups, hidden groups and on it goes. I understand that idea but can’t imagine having to do all the fussing about that would take, so I’ve decided that Facebook is my cyber-village.

It is populated with people I know through travel writing, old friends from my Sunday School days, family, book clubs and really old and really new friends. There are PR people, cyber friends from blogging connections, cousins and other people I’ve done business with.

At first, I had this idea that I would only be Facebook friends with people I was truly friends with in ‘real’ life. But I’ve been thinking of that Main Street Village idea and decided these are all people in my village.

Some are closer than others, some I exchange a friendly hello to when I pick up my milk and bread. Others are deeply connected to me, and I spend way more time with them in real life than I do in the cyber-world of FB, which is as it should be.

And so, Facebook is the village that keeps this particular idiot connected, where I can do a dorky dance and not care if I look stupid and where all these trails eventually connect me and my FB friends to meet up on our little cyber Main Street village.

We don’t have to be best friends…but please be friendly and throw me a wave now and then as I walk to the bakery.