Okay, here's the thing.
I'm really tired of torturing the language to find ways not to start a post with "I". Such an opening seems far too egotistical. In the long run, however, this blog is about - well, me. My attitudes, my thoughts, my activities, my diatribes against the slings and arrows, my fears (if I want to go that far), and so on and so forth. That's a lot more 'me' than I sometimes find comfortable expressing, or for that matter, reading. In the long run, I suppose this is kind of like scribbling on a fence or a bathroom wall somewhere. I don't really kid myself that I'm all that interesting, or that my thoughts are all that different and are therefore deserving of notice. My writing style isn't especially interesting either. Sometimes I kid myself that distant friends, internet friends, far off family, can occasionally check in and see what is happening in the life and times. Maybe a nephew or niece will one day decide to find out whatever happened to that crazy uncle who, rumor has it, all but ran away to join the circus. It would be nice if they found these ramblings and read just enough to catch the memories, dreams, ideals, and contradictions that make up the old psyche.
I verbally ramble. I am not comfortable with the quick spittle expressions of not quite face to facebook, or tweeting twitterers. My thoughts and words meander. I often feel helplessly old fashioned in this regard. I've no burning desire to be as verbose as Charles Dickens who, after all, was paid by the word. Then again, reading Dickens is a joy in my universe. (I'd have said "in my book" but the books in question were his.) (Ba-da-dumb.)
This morning, I wondered (not for the first time) why I hadn't seen any posts from Delores' blog in about a month. I subscribed to her 'Under the Porch Light', so her posts arrived by email. She had trouble some time back with her electronic interface device, and I had assumed that she was either taking a break, or that such trouble had returned. She was often the only person to leave notes on this page of the electronic universe. I steered my browser to her blog. It is gone, vanished into the sub electronic ether, the online evidence of her being has been removed. There may be any number of very good reasons for this turn of events. Perhaps there was too much information which was used by someone stealing her identity. A hundred quick explanations form in the thought process.
The blogs, facebook accounts, and etc. of people I know or hardly know or would like to know have vanished before. I find it unsettling. These twistings of the ones and zeroes are part of the evidence that we were here, they are expressions of our humanity, a record of our species, the modern equivalent of graffiti etched onto the walls of ancient Egypt. It is unsettling to realize how quickly it all can vanish.
Today, March 8th, is International Women's Day. I think I've noted it in previous posts. For the last couple of years, I've done my annual radio show about the "all girl" big bands on the weekend closest to this date. This year, I had other plans, as it's the 16th anniversary of my program; I've been giving serious thought to calling it a day and closing down the show. I've thought about doing it a couple of times over the last year or so. The anniversary seems like an appropriate time. Last Saturday's show was going to be a kind of tale in the telling, a history of how the show developed and why I think it might be time to stop. This coming Saturday would be the actual anniversary, the slam bang fabulous finish. Now, my show is on for two hours starting at 6pm on Saturday nights. It's a time when people are making or eating dinner, getting ready to go out, deciding what to watch that night, etc. I've always thought it more of a music show and less talk about the music or the whys and wherefores. So deciding to proceed in such fashion was an exception to the way I've conducted my program. Of course, the guy on at 2 o'clock that afternoon suddenly decided to do a show in which he autobiographically told the story of how he found the music that became important to him, and what meaning it had in his growing into allegedly responsible adulthood. It was a great show. I couldn't follow that act. I'd intended to play a song or two for International Women's Day, but with the last minute change in plans ended up playing about an hour's worth. The remaining hour was more or less just doodling around, not unlike the way the show started out. I still haven't made the decision about the future of the show, I've wavered back and forth. I guess in a way it's my scratchings on the wall.
As always, I hope any listeners enjoy the show.