This all started when Adobe, the software company that makes Photoshop, created an opportunity to pay tribute to first responders by asking customers like me to submit artwork celebrating these people. Since my niece Lorraine is a sheriff’s deputy and since I already had artwork along those lines, this would have been a good chance to honor her career choice. There was a hitch: you had to submit the art through Facebook, Instagram or Twitter.

Eschewing social media, I have never opened an account with Facebook, Tumblr, Linked-In, My Space, Instagram or any of the other platforms. Okay, I did end up in Google Hangouts for a time but that was by accident and I never inhaled. At first, I was horrified at my unintended involvement but it soon became apparent that anyone with a Google account was automatically assigned a Hangouts account.

No one misses me on social media. Looking at the correspondence I receive regarding my columns, no one has complained that they can’t find me on Facebook or any social media platform. I suppose that’s what happens when you have only two friends who basically don’t “like” anything.

Seriously wanting to submit my artwork, I ran through the options. Facebook was out. I have fundamental differences with Facebook that center around their policies and my feelings that the internet is free and open to the public and I shouldn’t have to forfeit my present and future personal data for the convenience of posting on their platform. I looked into Instagram and found that it is owned by Facebook. That left Twitter.

It bothers me that President Trump knows how to use Twitter and I don’t. For the sake of art, I decided to jump in.

Twitter asked for my name. Fine; my name is readily available and public knowledge. Next, I was asked for an email or phone number. I went with email. My birthday? Standard procedure, but I use two birthdays: one for online nosy busybodies and the other for those that legitimately need my real birthday. It went on but around step #5 it said, “By signing up you agree to our terms of service.” This is exactly where Facebook lost me.

Yes, I read the terms of service and the privacy policy. You’re rolling your eyes but I don’t care. I won’t put you to sleep with the details but what struck me is that you are totally responsible for anything you provide as content. They go out of their way to let you know that you alone own the content you provide. Then, they inform you that you are agreeing to let Twitter do anything they want with your content, anywhere and forever. Of course, if there is trouble while they are doing anything they want with your content, anywhere and forever, it will be your problem because you own it.

I decided, for the sake of art, to swallow all this and agree. Then after covering passwords, verification codes, self-portraits, biography and interests, I was finished and tried to log in. There was a problem: they wanted me to pass a test to prove I am not a robot. I hate pop-quizzes. Thankfully, the robot test was simple. They asked, “Are you a robot?’ I checked myself carefully — and then checked the NO box.

Finally, and to my great annoyance, they demanded my phone number; not my home phone but my cell phone. When we started, they implied I could use my email address instead of my phone. I want Twitter on my desktop, not my phone. They want my mobile number or no deal. Well, they aren’t going to get it. I have established peace with my phone. The phone does not want Twitter and Twitter is not getting the phone number.

For three days I tried to log in but was blocked by the mobile number demand. I am now getting emails saying, “Twitter: It’s all about you.” No, not really; it seems that Twitter is all about getting my mobile number. Now I don’t want Twitter. The president can have Twitter. Did he read the terms-of-use and privacy policy? Did he understand it?

So, allow me to bypass social media and corporate-sponsored contests and pay tribute to my sheriff’s deputy niece right here and now: thank you for doing your job and always remember that you are the all-important s-h-e in sheriff, just like there is no m-e in Twitter.