Is There Really Any Point to This?

O.K. I give up.  I’ve been resisting this urge to create a blog for a long time under the heavy sense that it’s a kind of linguistic narcissism, an extremely egotistical belief that I have anything to say of enough value that someone else would be interested in reading it.  But I can’t deny the pull.  It’s akin to the urge that I feel to scream at my radio when I listen to conservative talk shows (which I only do to make sure that my convictions are strong enough to stand the blunt trauma of slobbering neophytes telling me that my desire to be generous is going to destroy all that America stands for).  I, like so many other people I know, want to open the window and scream my beliefs or, as Walt Whitman put it,  to “sound my barbaric yalp from the rooftops of the world.”  Though I have to confess to an ulterior motive.

I used to keep a journal when I was a kid.  I think it ran fairly continuously from my 11th grade year of high school (that would have been 1982) to the first or second year of my present marriage (that would have been roughly 1996).  I learned a lot through that process.  Chiefly, I learned that I hadn’t changed much in those fourteen years, but I also gained a good deal of insight into myself and the world that surrounds me.  I’ve stopped journaling since then, probably because of all the time I spend on the computer.  So, as a remedy, I’ll now endeavor to journal again, though more publicly and on the computer.  I’m not so egotistical to think that anyone will ever actually read this.  In fact, I’ll likely get bored with the idea within a few weeks and stop writing altogether.  But for now, I’ll try to sit down here and post some observations for what life looks like mid-stream.

In the middle of my life, from the middle of the road, in the middle of a dizzying number and variety of projects and pastimes, I’ll share what I see, what I think, and what I hope to see in later half of this journey.  It could be fun, but probably not for anyone but me.


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