Blogging

I feel compelled to make a disclaimer about this blog.  This blog is written 98% for me.  I don't presume to attract advertisers.  I make no apologies for what I write here--too much this, not enough that.  Lest you mistake my disclaimer for a response to someone's response, it isn't.  I just wanted any readers I have to know that sometimes this blog is the only chronicle I have of something.  If it looks or feels like I'm ignoring an audience, well...I have no clue what my audience is (contrary to all good writing hype-"Identify your audience!").  I blog almost always randomly.  Something will strike me, or I'll start writing something in my head, or I just sit down and write what comes out, or I write in response to a photograph I come upon.  The only real difference between this and a journal (and believe me, it's a gigantic one!) is that I don't get very personal.  I may let you peer into certain sections of my "underwear drawer", but for the most part I leave out the truly truly personal.  Anyone who wants that version can book a road trip with me, and we'll go down THAT road!  Someday, I will be gone.  As in Gone gone.  I suppose inevitably it is rational to assume that eventually the internet will be left decomposing in some sort of cosmic apocalyptic energy dung heap.  My daughter, Shelly, gifted me a published book of a portion of my 456 posts.  That's one way of sidestepping a cataclysmic internet death.  "Take THAT, Cosmic Dung Heap!" Wrapping up, consider this my fight against my own mortality--one more piece of evidence.  Veni, vidi, vici... a footprint.  I signed the guestbook...