Circumstances will curtail my constant graffiti starting tomorrow. It's a gelt thing. Roof over head, food on table, clothes on back, broadband connection, you know, the essentials of life.
The breaking of the 24th and perhaps the 25th bone in my life gave me a short respite from the daily grind for a bit. The holiday will be over at 0800 tomorrow.
Before I return to that awful thing called the morning commute, I thought I would jot down a few thoughts about my grand tour of Blog-land
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For one, it was fun to go someplace I had only really seen in postal cards. Even if it's just part of the Virtual Reality that has so overwhelmed our lives, it is still a 'place' in the mind.
As with most trips to foreign lands, I pondered first what brought the people here and then what made them stay.
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Before seeing the Sarhara, I could never understand why people would live there. Once I had the chance to visit, to spend a few days there, I can't say I fully understand, but I can say I've seen how magnificent it is, how alluring and oddly enough, romantic it is.
The same can be said about California, both Northern and Southern. They are two different worlds. I've lived in both and prefer the Northern region.
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Before the web was open to public grazing, I SysOp'ed a BBS out of Marin County. A place where you could post one message at a time using a 1200 bps modem. If no technological advances were made, if the web had not been opened, I might still be doing it.
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Once the web was opened, I jumped right in, learned HTML and put together a small holding of websites and domains. This was before the bubble burst, the one that our older relatives, the ones who had lived through the Great Depression, warned would happen.
It was then I was lured into the world of Corporate America.
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I now work for one of the richest companies in the world. The word Trillion is not foreign to these people. There too, it is a visit to a foreign place. I am enjoying it, but miss my adopted home on the web.
This blog is a letter home, a way to keep in touch with virtual friends and virtual family. It's a way to scribble graffiti on the door to the bathroom stall in school, it's a way to be part of publishing the school newspaper, but on a much grander and at the same time more intimate scale.
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The graffiti and the school newspaper where for a limited audience. Though no restraint of content was put over your scribbling on the wall, there was the limit of time and scale. For something like a school newspaper, you have the larger scale, the larger audience, but still there were editorial and social restrictions, as well, again, the limit in time and space.
Here on a blog, the limit is how long your fingers can make sense out of the keyboard and the size of the storage device hosting the blog. I let you know when I've reached either limit.
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