Saturday Evening Post

This is the Saturday Evening Post. 

Today I'm talking about the 'death of the blog'. 

I've been told that blogs are "dead."  Nobody's interested.  People have short attention spans and would much rather friend you on FaceBook or follow you on Twitter.   It's like newspapers in a digital world. 

I've watched much beloved blogs with big followings bite the dust because the authors of them really, seriously don't have time to devote to them.  I've watched clever group blogs go the way of the dodo---again because the authors decided they'd get more "bang" for their buck on FaceBook and Twitter.

I am not killing this blog. 

There may only be a couple of followers.  I may be shouting into the vacuum.  But I will be SHOUTING into the freaking vacuum.

Because while I like FaceBook well enough, and do occasionally stop by there.  I find it's a time sink.  And they have changed the rules.  Now I have all these people I'm evidently getting updates on who I have no clue who they are (I think they're readers who friended me first, but I honestly am not sure) and all of the people I actually know I get nada on.  Now, I grant that it is kind of cool to meet the new people, and they do have interesting lives with drama and so forth.  But I don't KNOW them.  It's like watching reality TV.  I don't get the point.  I realize this makes me odd.  But, well, THAT'S not exactly news.  I mean COME ON, I've been "odd" since the day I was born.  One of my favorite tee-shirts (that I need to buy when I find it again dammit) says:

                     "DON'T GET EVEN.  GET ODD."

I believe it was an "Emily the Strange."  I LOVED Emily.  So very me.

I do not love Twitter. 

Yes.   I know.  There are those who would now put me before a firing squad AFTER lecturing me on how WONDERFUL Twitter is.  It is the latest/greatest/new ohmiGAWD thing. 

But it's SHORT.  You have to be pithy.  

I do pith.  But not at 4:00-6:00 in the morning.  Which is when I usually wind up posting.  Too, most of the people who I would like to have tweeting conversations with are not UP at 4:00-6:00 in the morning.  (Have I told you I'm jealous?  If not.  I'm telling you now.  I'm freaking JEALOUS of people who don't have to squeeze in the writing and internet stuff before they get ready for the day job.)

So I say PITH ON IT.  So there.

Besides which, Twitter, for reasons only known to computer gurus and God does not like working on my computer.  Nine out of ten times when I try to post it gives me the "We're sorry.  Something's wrong.  Try again in a few seconds."  DUDE I only HAVE a few seconds.  You are being sandwiched in between feeding the animals, taking my meds, writing and getting ready for the day job. 

I do not need to be frustrated at 4:38 in the freaking morning.  It sets a bad precedent for the whole day.  It also destroys what little pith I may have managed to dredge up from the bowels of my psyche.

"BUT" you say, "typing the blog actually takes LONGER."

"DUDE" I say, (yeah, I'm old enough to still say dude.  Laugh if you want.  I can quote Hill Street Blues and The West Wing too.  Even the original Sherlock Holmes, in PRINT, from before when Robert Downey Jr. was even born.)  "I can do the stream of consciousness stuff in my sleep." (And have.)  I type between 100-120 WPM.  This is easier than falling off a greased log.

SO, I will blog, into the darkness and the void.  And I will cherish the folks who actually read and (gasp) LIKE longer formats.  But one of these days I will actually go onto FaceBook and try to figure out how to follow the people I actually know. 

But not today.  I have a to-do list to get tah-done. 

Guys, have fun this New Year's Eve, but "Be careful out there."