“Blogs are dead.”
This statement of doom was uttered by one of my writing-group cohorts at a recent meeting, roughly two seconds after I announced that I had started one.
Naturally, blogs are dead. This is the story of my life—the thing I finally catch on to has already passed the cool kids by. By the time I’ve hyper-analyzed some new craze enough to decide that the novelty/challenge of it won’t kill me, that novelty is cold in the ground.
There is a reason I named this blog what I did.
Ah, well. So I will be the one to persist with dead trends. They can put this on my gravestone; “the fact that she'd missed the bus never stopped her from running determinedly after it”.
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So ask her what's next - let's get in on a trend early this time!
ReplyDeleteIt was a he and his answer was Facebook, which we are already doing way too much of, right? Like you said, who has time to live what with all of this recording of it. :o
ReplyDeleteSo...to buses and getting on them...or not. Here's a poem I love by Sharon Olds, one of my favorite poets...
ReplyDeleteTHE SUMMER CAMP BUS PULLS AWAY FROM THE CURB
by Sharon Olds
Whatever he needs, he has or doesn’t
have by now.
Whatever the world is going to do to him
it has started to do. With a pencil and two
Hardy Boys and a peanut butter sandwich and
grapes he is on his way, there is nothing
more we can do for him. Whatever is
stored in his heart, he can use, now.
Whatever he has laid up in his mind
he can call on. What he does not have
he can lack. The bus gets smaller and smaller, as one
Folds a flag at the end of a ceremony,
onto itself, and onto itself, until
only a heavy wedge remains.
Whatever his exuberant soul
can do for him, it is doing right now.
Whatever his arrogance can do
it is doing to him. Everything
that’s been done to him, he will now do.
Everything that’s been placed in him
will come out, now, the contents of a trunk
unpacked and lined up on a bunk in the underpine light.