I did it. I have entered the blogosphere. I'm not what you would call an early adopter. Never been accused of being techno savvy. My vcr still mockingly blinks 12:00. I don't have an ipod or a palm pilot. I don't even type. What am I doing with a blog? Why would anyone read it?
I mean, the latest statistic states that there are a zillion and three blogs. Some of them are so great. Informative, thought provoking, and fun. See Corey Mann's blog. Very cool. I am not cool. I used to be cool, but then I had children and they sucked the cool right out of me. They can't believe there was ever a time when I was cool. Ever.
I will now tell you some things about myself. I realize that I am making a huge assumption that anyone would care.
I am in love with Jesus. I have an amazing wife, Nancy. I am fascinated by history. I read a lot. My dream is to take a trip to Israel. Even if our four children were not our children I would still want to know them because they are such wonderful people. Words are really cool. I miss my mom. I like super hero comic books. I am a social worker/therapist/addictions counselor. I have been writing in my journal for 20 years. I am the inventor of an unpatented personal cooling unit (more on this later). I enjoy researching my family genealogy. Your family genealogy is really boring to me, but I'd love to tell you all about mine. Is anyone still reading this? Why? Don't you people have lives? Right now go hug your kids, watch the sunset, give your spouse a back rub, call your mom, floss.
Thus ends my first foray into the world of blogging. Thanks.
2 comments:
Tom,
I am so glad to see that you are 'sharing' with the rest of the world. I will alert the authorities....
dad, i smiled as soon as i began reading this because it addressed the exact question that has been in my head since the beginning of this cyberspace diary...why does MY father have a blog?
ive seen you type. its painful. your mind first processes what letter you need to type, then your finger slowly makes its way up to the oh so overwhelming keyboard, and it begins its search.
up, and down, through every row, the finger (only one, mind you. usually the index.) continues its hunt for the correct letter. Then, once it has spotted its prize, it snaps down with a loud and extremely overzealous THWACK. Then all is silent. your brain puts together the next letter in the sequence, and the hunt begins all over again.
sometimes when you dont think anyone else is in the room, i watch you type. The laughter relieves my stress.
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