I typed this whole post in last night. But it was after midnight, and I accidentally lost the whole thing.
Those of us who started blogging more than five years ago still remember those blog-golden days, when we not only posted every day — as bloggrandaddy Dave Weinberger suggested — writing ourselves into existence; we also read each other’s blogs and left voluminous and numerous comments, fueling continuous debates about everything from gender bias to blogging ethics.
Last night I grew nostalgic for those blogolden days, for the community I no longer seem to have, for the lack of any comments/discussions in my posts, for the necessity to blog late at night when I don’t have to worry about taking care of my soon-to-be 91 years old mom. (Her birthday is in a couple of weeks.)
This recent post at BlogSisters only made my nostalgia worse, reminding me of what’s been lost as we early birds aged — or should I say “evolved” — as bloggers.
I check the BlogSister’s roster to see who’s really still blogging from the bunch. Rox Populi seems to be the most recent one who’s opted out of a personal blog for other venues. Zeeahtronic and Esta Jarrett seem to be MIA.
My biggest sadness rests in the fact that I don’t get comments anymore. That means this site is no longer a conversation; it’s just an ego trip. And that’s not enough reason to keep it going, especially if I’m just writing about things that only interest me.
So, I sit here wondering if it’s time to move on, move out. Maybe I just don’t have much to say anymore, my life being so confined.
Of course, I could write about that ordinary man I saw crossing the street in front of my car carrying a witch’s broom. He had just walked out of the “Awareness Shop: Esoteric Consultation” place in front of which I had to stop to let him cross. An ordinary man — slightly balding, dressed in jeans and a windbreaker — carrying a witch’s broom. I wondered if he might have bought it as a surprise for a friend who wanted one. Or maybe he was planning to do a ritual cleansing of his own. Or maybe it was a symbolic gift for someone — a metaphorical message that meant “get on your broom and ride out of my life.”
I guess I could have written about that.
Kalilily Time
Just an old lady talking to herself
I read your blog — every time you update! But, like you, I find that the world of blogs has changed — turned into a stage for monologues, drowning out the conversations. Life is crazy, busy … and it’s getting harder to keep up the conversations, let alone start new ones.
I noticed that I haven’t had any new subscribers to my blog in almost a year. Like you, with my life confined by new necessities, I think of moving on — and out of blogging. And yet I stay … mostly because how else would I learn about the man with the witch’s broom and your mother’s fears — all of it making my world bigger.
It’s strange, but even without ever having met you, I find myself thinking of your life every now and then — and sometimes even talking about the issues you face with others in my life. This is probably not the conversation you envisioned, but it is a conversation still.
I read you regularly. Until a few months ago, when I got broadband, it was rather time-consuming for me to log in to TypeKey (or most of the other blog software types), compose a comment, revise, submit, and confirm. Not that you’re not worth it, but mostly what I have to say is not very interesting…just “how true” or “me too.”
“Me too” commenters used to be the bane of usenet newsgroups and listserv mailing lists, the Internet communities where I “cut my teeth” in the late 80’s and early 90’s. They “took up bandwith”, added “noise to the signal,” and were considered poor “Netiquette.” Then too, communities arose, were vital and interesting for a time, and then played out (usually under the weight of flame wars, “me too’s,” and spam).
Ham radio and CB radio operators describe similar community changes over time, so it’s not just an Internet or blog phenomenon.
I hope you keep talking, because I’m listening, and learning, and I think there must be others too. If you like, now that I have more bandwidth, I can chime in a “me too!” but “netiquette” tells me I should wait for an invitation.
I know this sounds corny, but reading both of your comments brought tears to my eyes — probably because I feel so alone these days. Your leaving those comments make me feel that I do, indeed, exist, outside of this tiny world I now live in. Thank you.
Of course you realize it’s a corollary to Godwin’s Law (or something like that) that, as soon as you post about not getting comments, you’ll receive a ton. 🙂
I think many blog readers (at least ones like me, with 800+ blogs to get through on a regular basis and a newsreader like Bloglines so that we don’t actually click on individual blogs) don’t generally have time to leave comments – and certainly not to follow the ensuing discussion. Thus you get A-list and B-list blogs with TONS of comments, and then those of us who get maybe a half dozen on a good day. 🙂
Your words are needed in the blog world. Keep on, keepin’ on.
blood and breath
I could have entitled this post “relatives and friends” but that’s not as catchy. And I do love metaphors. As I get older, relatives seem to become more important. I’m not sure why, since I still feel closest to those…