Inner Reflections

Too Old For This, Part XXVII

It seems, somehow, that blah-gs have become de-rigeur on almost every site that relies on user content. I keep waiting for eBay to add blogs as a new and improved feature in "My eBay." I probably shouldn't kid about it, though-- you never know what they might cook up next.

Truth be known, I am grateful for the invention of the blog. I was never much good at keeping a pen-and-paper journal-- and I found myself having to burn them, periodically, when someone I didn't care for would get into them. That's one of the really weird things about the web. In Cyberspace we write and everyone and anyone under the sun can read our words, and we're not bothered. Yet, when my mother read my journals-- which rarely contained anything more private than finds its way into these electronic journals-- I felt compelled to go burn the evidence of my writing. Which just goes to show you that life very seldom makes sense.

Some would suggest that I am much too old to keep a blog, that blogging is the domain of horny angst-ridden teens, and that it's outright creepy to have a 40-something male keep a blog. Too bad, so sad.