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Hey--now this guy is fun!


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10 August 2005

I am not exactly an old timer on the internet journal scene, though I did start this journal in the days before the term "blog" had been invented, so I guess I've been around for awhile.  When "blogs" first appeared, we journalists looked down our nose at them, because they weren't real "journalists."  They recorded passing thoughts once or more times a day, whenver they felt like it, but they rarely said much of substance (unlike me, of course.   LOL). 

However, as time has passed, the dividing line between "journals" and "blogs" seems to have disappeared and it would be difficult to explain the difference any more.

When you read internet journals, diaries and/or blogs, you get hooked on the lives of some people, walk into their lives, feel like they are among some of your good friends, whether you ever meet them or not, whether you ever exchange e-mails or not, whether they know you are reading or not.  Because of this phenomenon of those of us who spill our guts on the internet, lots of faceless, nameless people know who we are.

But the difficulty with this strange community is that people disappear.  One day they're here, the next day they're gone and we may never know what's happened to them.  I think about some of the people I felt a real friendship with in the early days of this journal and I wonder where they are now.

What ever happened to Al Schroeder, whose Nova Notes stopped being updated a year ago.  I wonder about his kids and how they are getting along.

I worry about Bob, who used to write And If I Die..., who disappeared suddenly after some cryptic comments that made me worry about him.   But now the site is gone completely (unlike Al's, whose old entries are still there).

What happened to Jon Kusch of Jon Jon Diaries, Viv of First Person Particular, Queerscribe of Queer Scribbles, Elle ofThe Windmills Are Winning, Kristie the Cubicle Girl, and Char of Are We There Yet?

Some of these may have moved on to different sites (maybe blogs?).   It used to be easier to track things like this on, but things have gotten so unwieldy that I suspect it's virtually impossible.

There are others who used to update regularly who have slid into the "occasionally" or "rarely" category.  I miss knowing the ups and downs of Terri's (Footnotes) daily life and hearing the gripes of The Bitter Hag (whose upcoming nuptials I am going to claim responsibility for), though am glad that they at least check in from time to time.

Heck, since she got all buff 'n' stuff, even Marn isn't as regular as she used to be (might try prunes there, old girl...)

A recent article in the BBC News postulates that there are now more than 14.2 million blogs (presumably this also includes journals) and that approximately one blog is created every second.  Whew.

It used to be easier to create a devoted following, but with one new blog being created every second, it's really a miracle that anybody has a time to feel "bonded" with anybody at all.  (I am supremely grateful for the number of people who have stuck with this journal, for better or for worse, literally thrugh thick and through thin, and continue to read).

But I'm grateful for the diehards who have stuck with their own journals and who are kind of an anchor for me--e.g., John Bailey, The Old Grey Poet and Michael of Bunt Sign, and of course Mary (Bozoette) among many others. 

Some years ago, my group of friends from CompuServe discussed how we had this active community that people in our "real" lives might not know about, and if something should happen to one of us, it might be that nobody would know how to let on-line groups know about it.  We would just "disappear" and nobody would know why.

Since that time, we have gotten closer, see each other in real life, and I doubt that anybody would forget to let someone in the group know if we were to be hit by a bus some day. 

But these journalists and bloggers come and go. We may invest some of our emotional life in their lives (like following the ups and downs of Rob's daughter Schuyler or the fate of the premature twins, Mason and Avery) and there is a hole in our lives when we lose that connection.

So if any of you "lost" guys still read this journal or stumble across this entry, drop me a line and let me know what's happening with you these days!

I've been doing some "photo correction" in Photo Shop lately, trying to make old photos look better.  I wanted to show a selection of the work I've done to a friend and so rather than e-mail her several large files, I created this page, in case you're curious.


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I love this picture.  Bud is watching a dog on TV and
Sheila is having her way with him.
(Sheila had never done this before this guy got here.)


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