To Blog or Not To Blog
I never thought I’d do it, blog I mean.
When I first saw the word some years back, I went to the deluxe color edition of my old faithful New World Dictionary of American Language, and nowhere in the 1692 pages and the good Lord only knows how many entries, did I find the word.
And now I’m doing it.
Blog, for your information (and mine) is short for Web Log, a site for an individual’s comments about whatever rings his bell.
I always sort of, kind of looked down my nose at bloggers, wondering where they found all the spare time to keep up their blogs.
After a while, I realized my perception was colored by a disastrous attempt several years back to have my own web site.
What had happened was that I had a brilliant young woman teaching one of our program’s technical classes down in the middle school. She was familiar with building web sites, and she volunteered to set it up for me.
It rocked along all right until she found a spot in another school district.
Well, let me tell you. Old dumb me couldn’t keep up with the switching, pasting, and all the other stuff that had to be done. I’d get a command like “once the ACK is detailed, insert data from secondary file into the binary code.” Jiminy! All I could do was gape at the command. If I went to the help command, all I got was a standard list of questions with answers, none of which probably wouldn’t have applied to me even if I could have understood them.
I let my URL (I think that’s what they called it-or it might have been BLT as far as I know) die a peaceful death. Can you blame me?
I figured blogs pretty much the same thing.
But, boy, was I surprised.
A good friend who always stays on the cutting edge of technology had been urging me to do one. I refused. And then one day, I saw hers online, “Praise, Prayers, and Observations.”
I complimented her, and once again she suggested I give one a shot.
So I did, and to my surprise, even a dummy like me managed to put one together. And it doesn’t take a lot of time.
If you want to take a look at it, the address is kentconwell.blogspot.com. Mine is very unsophisticated, a reflection of its creator. Gradually, I’ll make an effort to put a little here, a little there. If you go there someday and it’s gone, I probably blew something up.
Now, my friend said, and I’m quoting from memory here, which is a very dangerous thing for me to do; but as I remember, she said the blogs last forever.
Then I had to consider the subject of the blog. Now, I have my weekly columns, so I have a convenient venue from which I can vent my spleen at the morons in our world, so I opted not to focus so much on current idiocies.
I usually attend a weekly luncheon where a dozen or so old codgers like me gather to straighten out the world. I’m amazed at the amount of knowledge possessed by that group, almost two thousand years worth of it in just about any field you can imagine.
What a shame, I told myself, that when those old boys pass on, all they know goes with them.
Don’t get me wrong. I ain’t about to probe their heads for what they know. That takes too much time.
But, in my seventy-two years, I’ve seen a great deal, so I figured among other subjects such as mysteries and westerns, I’d focus on building an online scrapbook for those in my family who follow me. I remember enough of the two generations before me to bring them to life.
Like the time Papa Conwell told me of seeing Bat Masterson. Or the time Little Beaver of the movies turned out to be a distant cousin.
Nothing earth shaking, you know; nothing the next door neighbor will lose sleep over; but it might prove fascinating to a grandchild or great grandchild.
And then, maybe not.