Tag Archives: quotidian

Quotidian: August 30, 2017

My how time passes when you’re having fun. Not. Having fun, that is.

My days follow a sameness: get up, brush teeth, push button on coffee maker, brush hair, get a treat for Lulu, get a package of breakfast biscuits from the closet that is the larder, left click to open computer, carefully carry coffee across kitchen, working at circumventing the sleeping Sherlock, toss treat on Lulu’s pillow, open Gmail, sink into office chair, drink coffee, eat breakfast biscuit, go through in turn Gmail, Yahoo and Facebook. Sink further in chair. Get involved in watching Feel Good animal videos. Realize I have become a person who watches videos online.

This is new to me. I used to hate when news stories turned to videos. Real reportage is to be read, not watched. A picture is not worth a thousand well-crafted words offering both fact and analysis. Moreover, a pox on pretty girl and boy reporters who probably got mediocre marks in their college composition classes. I know, because I doled out those B’s and C’s. They were the students who would offer definitive statements in their essays to which I would invariably have to ask, “Where’s your support for this?”

They had no support. Something was so because they said it was. Or someone said it was, somewhere, sometime, that they heard about. And anyway, who’s to say what is and isn’t so. It’s all relative, right? Everyone’s entitled to their opinion.

And that, my friends, is why Donald Trump is president. And why our democracy is probably in its waning days. The Founders warned about this, the day when the rabble (or as we call them, the incorrigibles) rose up and spoke so loudly that theirs became the only voice of the people.

That statement, which arrived seemingly unbidden from my subconscious, is, of course, my opinion. To which I am entitled. And having said so, I  must go watch some more Feel Good animal videos. They are, these days, the only anodyne to the pain inflicted by the state of the nation.

The Good Old Days

I’ve missed the act of blogging as it used to be, when I wrote what came in my mind for no other reason than the pleasure of putting words together so they said what I thought I meant at the time.

I’m not alone. Scratch someone who has been blogging for a number of years and you’ll find we all miss going to conferences, finding a community of others, making friends, learning, listening, talking, reading, commenting. The mid-2000’s, those were the heady days of blogging, before monetization superseded communication.

But, sigh, life changes, we move on, the new becomes old and the old becomes retro. One of the things about reaching my Advanced Years (!) is that I’m enjoying a certain I don’t give a fuck mentality that has taken over. Several months ago, for example, in the process of changing my site host, the entire archives of MidLifeBloggers disappeared into the ether. Seven years of worth of the on-line magazine I created and edited, which featured personal essays by a number of writers reflecting the full range of their mid-life experience–all gone. In truth, I don’t give a fuck. I could have gone through some process to retrieve my Archives, but I wasn’t really interested. It seemed like a lot of work to what end? I couldn’t figure that out, so I just let it go.

I still own the midlifebloggers.com domain name, however, so instead of just leaving it parked, I’ve now pointed it to this site, my eponymous website, holder of all things significantly related to me. I’ve started a new Category on this site, called, appropriately, The Blog. I’m going to try to get back in the habit of regular blogging, about this, that and the other. Bullshit, maybe–and if I’m the only person being entertained by, well, I don’t give a fuck.

%d bloggers like this: