I never felt attracted to the idea behind Facebook, and never felt an urge to join the countless throngs who make use of it. I had the instinctive feeling that this is a venue for egotists, an opportunity to strut their conceits and impress people; alternately, attracting people desperate to make 'friends' irrespective of the quality of the purported friendships. I didn't exactly resist joining the social media site, though I had received invitations over the years from friends who had signed up to it; I simply was disinterested and wondered what it was that they could possibly extract from that commitment to make it worthwhile.

When my brother was under his short-lived struggle with cancer, receiving palliative care that included rounds of chemotherapy, he would often post to his Facebook page, communicating with his many friends about what and how he was feeling (thankfully no physical pain due to the type of murderous cancer that galloped relentlessly through his body), and the procedures he was undergoing, along with his initial attempts to live as normal a life for the time left to him, as was possible. Our telephone conversations conveyed much to me, but he urged me to join Facebook so I could access his written communications.

I didn't at first, for the first months after his diagnosis and the initiation of his treatment, but not long before he died, I relented and signed on to the dreaded site. Perhaps because I was already reserved about its value, I found little comfort in it; in fact, I disliked it immensely. It was nice, in a sense, to be linked to some people who had a place in my life when we were all young, and to family members geographically dispersed. On the other hand, the constant downloads were distracting and sometimes unpleasant. There was a pretentiousness about it all that revolted me.

And then, suddenly, a day ago, a request to 'friend' someone. How do you metaphorically slap someone whom you don't know down by ignoring such a request? I complied. Was thanked. Responded. And a day later received a confounding, disturbing, presumptive message:

Hello Dear . here is all about me you need to know, My name David . i was born August 12, 1960, in Spain i grew up a small town call Tassi ,am the only child of my parents, i lost my dad when i was 29,.then 1997 my mom past out. ........life is so good when your family is complete.I lost my wife 3years ago,i really don't want to talk much about my late wife i want to move ahead and leave my past behind and be happy for good..hope you understand that please? I miss her so much due to the fact that I am playing the role of a father and a mother at the same time to my son , which is really giving me some stress, i believe that we can be friends if you dont mind , that is why i will try to put all my interests in making you understand that we can have a better life if we give each other the chance you know friendship is not something you learn in school but if you dont know the true meaning of friendship that means you have not learn anything.... i really want us to be good friend and dear i need your reply back please and tell me all about your self ...am expecting to read back from you soon.

David Luke 3:25am Oct 29 You are very pretty and sexy lady,i like your sweet charming eyes,sweet dreams

In fact, I had no need to know. I was not interested in 'knowing' anything about this man who had the gall to address me in a manner so arrogantly presumptive that I was convinced he was a predator who had carefully studied the manual on predation, since I had informed him, at his prior request, that my husband and I are approaching our 79th year, married for over 60 years, with three children, the oldest in his mid-50s.

Reading his message left me struggling; was he simply brashly naive or accustomed to manipulating people to achieve an end of his own, focusing on feeble-minded little old ladies whose empathy and sympathies could be relied upon to extract from them useful concessions of one kind or another? Was I being unnecessarily paranoid? To react like this on receiving a sexually suggestive, appeal for understanding and support from a stranger who had made contact with me only the day before?

I showed the message to my husband and it disturbed him. As I knew it would. I wanted his reaction, though I was well aware what it would be. His assessment was similar to mine. Unsurprising, since we've shared opinions, experiences and solutions for most of our lives save the 14 years before we met.

Will I feel that I have misjudged another person, perhaps one who is emotionally vulnerable too harshly in condemning him to the company of unprincipled psychopaths who prey on others? Should I have responded gently rejecting his wish to find an intimate friend? Might it have been useful to express my opinion of his crude attempt at manipulation, voiced in a cautionary tone geared to give least offence, in offering him an object lesson in human relations?