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Editorial Archives The Altamont Enterprise, February 8, 2007
Sunny with a chance of blog
By Jo E. Prout
Everywhere I look it’s blog, blog, blog, but all I see, instead, is blah, blah, blah. Honestly, who has the time" And, more to the point, who cares"
I sent an inquiring note to an acquaintance recently, and she sent me her blog address. Tch. If I’d been reading her blog, I would already know how she is, wouldn’t I" was the implied message.
I have no interest in spreading my limited time even thinner by searching people’s blogs like I search newspaper headlines. I can barely keep up with the papers and a few friends by rare phone calls. Some bloggers have no time for normal conversation, either. After all, why repeat something when you’ve already blogged it"
It is an idea, though, blogging. I only see my husband, usually with one eye shut, when he kisses my slumbering self goodbye in the morning, and our conversations in the evening consist of one- or two-word shouts over the noise of the children. If he didnt fall asleep the minute his head hit the pillow, and if I hadnt already fallen asleep putting the kids to bed, we might carve out some time to talk before our own bedtime.
But then, we’d have to talk over the great divide of two mountainous kids and three boulder-like cats as we hover on the edges of our full size bed. Perhaps a blog would improve communications"
"Today is cat-litter day. Don’t come home without it."
"I drove the kids to school today, and had to get gas at that awful station cuz I was out of fuel, kwim""
"Hey, I managed to pay the bills for another month. Let’s celebrate. I’ll make spaghetti."
I could post a picture of the dumpy gas station, and another of my favorite spaghetti dish, so hubby would really know how I live when hes out of the house.
And, I could set up a response section, so untold numbers of strangers could tell me which station to use or avoid for environmental (polluters), political (connivers), or economic (gougers, but theyre having a three-cents-off sale next week at their station 38 miles away) reasons.
And even more strangers could tell me that I ought to limit my kids activities, enlarge my kids activities, put my kids on a bus, or walk them, instead. At least three will insist on sending my blog site to child protective services. If I add a tracker to my site, Ill be able to figure out which parts of the country my readers are from, and avoid them if I ever vacation.
But theres no point in creating a blog, because my husband doesnt have time to read it. And, if I, too, have no time to read one, I certainly have no time to write one.
Who does" Why am I expected to watch the evening news and sit with my laptop open at the same time to read an anchor’s blog" Why does my morning paper give me some of the news and tell me I must read a reporter’s blog for the rest of the story, or even a different story" Who needs to read a thousand blogs about the Super Bowl or about how to make macaroni and cheese"
Don’t these bloggers and blog-readers (they must have a name, too" What is it") clean out their gutters, put away their laundry, walk their dogs, or mulch their roses" Couldn’t they go roller-skating, read a cozy novel, write a letter to an editor, or call their dear aunties"
They could say their prayers, or mop their floors, or knit blankets for Binky Patrol to help children in crisis.
Converserly, they could enjoy their new hobby, or work, or whatever aspect blogging holds for them. Theres something for everyone in this life, and room, I grudgingly acknowledge, for blogging, too
As for me, I will be out in the world, away from this computer that seems to demand more and more of my time each year. I will breathe in fresh air and chase away the blahs. And the blogs.
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