To blog or not to blog …
It’s a cultural phenomenum … it’s a vain waste of time … it’s a relevant way to communicate on a thousand different topics with three or four people … it is a great means to an end.
And speaking of … read Anne R. Allen’s post from this Sunday and get great blogging tips and advice.
Okay … you are reading this … or maybe you’re having your first cup of coffee and wish it had not landed in your e-mail this morning.
You are a fellow blogger … you hate blogs but you love me.
You don’t know how the hell you got on my subscription list and never learned how to unsubscribe to anything on the net.
To blog is to be a blogger or blogs are often powered by Blogger, WordPress and I don’t know.
Blogger sounds like blog-her. Like her-a-cane … the phoeonetic of a brutal storm that is given a name.
Used to be that they were only named after females. Then a group of women protested and we got hurricane Oscar?
Sorry ladies, guys take this one: More of the deadliest, costliest hurricanes have been tagged with male names.
To keep things fair, we only included hurricanes since 1979, as all hurricanes were given female names between 1953 and that year. (Before 1953, latitude-longitude identification methods were used to tag hurricanes.)
Also, after a storm does devastingly descusting damage, that name is retired.
Here is South Florida the top of the list is Andrew.
Enough … I digress …
And here we are … me, you, and a couple of folks who perceived that the last of my perception stuff might be interesting.
And talking about my trilogies … some of the time I get a resounding response to the first, a blah reaction to the second and a terrible thud to three.
Where it all began …
I was a late third addition to the family tree and so it was like I was an only child, the only girl, the only person who had a running dialogue with herself … even though I was not the only person on that tree who was well … nuts.
I talked to myself I suppose because I got lonely or because I had so much to say, it had to find a place to go.
My mother … “You do know that people who talk to themselves are considered crazy?”
Me … “Yeah?”
The Big Guy … “Will you cut that out. I never know who the hell you’re talking to me or you.”
The Middle one … “You keep that up and they’ll put you in a rubber room.
The Head Honcho … “Basta, figlia mia. Se dusi patso.” Translation: Daugher o fmine, stop that crazy talk.”
Fast forward to living with the children’s father … “I heard you talking in the bathroom again last night.”
And of course, the children. “Ma, why do you do that?”
Finally, I was divested of the nuclear family, the hubby and at last I left the kids 1,200 miles away in NYC and happily talk myself silly.
I often talk in character or switch sides in a debate. I’ve been known to mimic a male voice and I use language that would make a sailor blush.
The solution-blogging …
The way I saw it was clear. I’d find something funny and I’d talk about it. Like doing stand-up comedy in writing.
I would have loved to have been a female Carlin or Richard Pryor. Even at this late stage in my life, I still wonder what it would have been like to take the stage and rant on my favorite flavor of the month.
To have the courage of Carlin who took his right to free speech (no matter how others perceived it as vulgar) to the Supreme Court and won.
To be Richard Pryor and say whatever strange thoughts bounce around in my head.
Alas, I am merely a kid from Brooklyn with time on her hands and stuff on her mind and decided to come here to see if someone might be interested.
So I told stories or found great places you might want to learn about or I took snippets from books, or rambled on about nothing at all.
Like this series will be in the “Rambling” category.
An odd subject that I may not repeat but felt compelled to share would be in the “Random Thought” category … and so it goes from week to week.
You can go to my side bar and instead of finding all my outstand blog awards, you will find my archives and my categories, a precious handful of other blogs and a few of my daughter’s amazing photographs.
The point here is crystal … blogging can be fun, educational and a wonderful release of tension for those solitary up-tight types. Whether a reader or a doer … enjoy.
How did you get here?
Do you blog or just love reading them?
fOIS In The City