And so it came to pass, in the twelfth month of retirement: I started a damn blog! It was either that or take up Jewel Dash, and all of those sparkling colors give me a headache.
Well, it was a little more than that. It all started with Facebook, the gateway drug for verbal sharing addicts. After a lengthy hiatus, I returned to the site in June. Like the prodigal son, I tried to make it right. Okay, the truth is that I broke a couple of ribs and could barely move without screaming. I needed something to take my mind off the pain. Percocet worked, but Facebook had fewer side effects.
For the first couple of weeks, I quietly lurked about, trying to absorb the culture of social media. I checked out the baby and cat pictures, the political diatribes, the casserole recipes and the weather reports from various vacation spots. I knew, at some point, that I needed to yield to that little box at the top of the page, the one that kept asking the same question: “What’s on your mind?” That was a challenge for me. It wasn’t that I had nothing to say; the problem was figuring out how to say it to a diverse audience.
At last count, I had 252 Facebook friends from a variety of demographic sources: relatives, neighbors, former classmates, people I worked with. Their ages span at least four generations. In that mix are Republicans, Democrats, Independents, Libertarians and Socialists. There are those who think Donald Trump is an idiot and those who see him as a gift from God. Some of these friends have been personally and viscerally pained by police shootings of young black men this summer. Others are proud family members of police officers, concerned about the tarnishing of those they love with a brush they don’t deserve.
How, I wondered, do I say what’s on my mind without hurting people I care about, without adding more divisive noise to a world that seems to be drowning in it? So I decided to violate Facebook protocol and write in paragraphs instead of sentences. I knew I shouldn’t take up a lot of space on a site designed more for rapid scrolling than ponderous reading. Still, I needed more than a bumper sticker if I was going to explain my thoughts in a way that would not scorch any earth with those who held a contrary view.
I’ve been a FB pontificator now for almost three months, waxing away on issues of the day, everything from Trump to lesbian farmers, from the death of a governor I once covered to the transformative powers of a summer rainbow. The ribs healed several weeks ago but I continued to write. As I did, I received a number of kind comments suggesting that I start a blog. I suspect this was a gentle way of saying I was writing way too long for FB, and I was.
So here I am, on the verge of turning 67, struggling my way through yet another technological adventure. In my quick research, I was stunned to learn that almost everyone already has a blog. At least it seems that way. There are blogs about yeast infections, overactive bladders, anger management and adult men who are way too involved with My Little Pony. Those bloggers – and you – have my solemn word that I will never touch those subjects in this space.
Instead, I will do what I had been doing on Facebook. I will give you a few paragraphs of prose every now and then, crafted, if I’m lucky, with a tablespoon or two of insight, along with an occasional dash of irony and wit. If you are looking for a shrill voice to slap down those with contrary opinions, this isn’t the place. You may, instead, want to check out one of the anger management blogs. Or, better yet, the My Little Pony sites.