I’ve been completely consumed with the #Megxit and #Harryvederci drama going on for the last week or so. In fact, I’ve been on the fringes of a little Twitter gang of anti-Meghaneers for quite a while. It’s all fun and games for the most part, but every now and then the British-American cultural divide puts the skids on the fun.
Today for instance, in the wake of the enormous disappointment that the queen didn’t immediately shove them both outside the palace gates to fend for themselves 100%, I took a mild part in the flurry sadness and of woeful predictions. I posted this and some people took it seriously.
In real life, I’m considered to be hilariously entertaining. Or I would be if anybody understood what I was talking about 90% of the time. Here’s two killer examples:
As part of my responsibility for the local Friends of the Library, I recently opened a post office box. You can choose the size of the box but not the number or the location. Imagine how happy I was to be assigned to box number 549. *pause for reaction* I thought everyone, if they didn’t immediately outright bust out into a Junior Samples imitation, would at least smile. Even when I explain it to people, they just look back at me and blink. Come on, people.
2. We use a pool blanket in the cooler months here at the Florida-Georgia line. It keeps the heat in so we can swim when the air temp is reasonable, thus extending swim season by two months on each end. At first, we tried to manually wrangle it from a loose pile at the end of the pool. It was a two-man job and a big hassle that only lasted about a week. Then we invested in a long reel to smoothly put it on and take it off . This was a big improvement and made it a reasonable thing for one person to do it but still wasn’t the ideal process. There was a lot of walking back and forth to adjust it if you tried to do it alone. So my engineer husband got some tow rope and grommets and put them at each end of the blanket and life was tremendously improved. No waiting for a partner to make the job easy, falls into place without a lot of fuss and hilariously entertaining.
What?, you say*.
Yes. Every time one of us walks along the edge of the pool using the rope to guide the forward movement of the blanket, I sing Erie Canal. Out loud. I can’t help it. It’s so so funny and yet NO ONE EVER THINKS SO BUT ME.
I don’t think this is an age gap thing as much as it’s a unfamiliarity with American trivia. Not that the Erie Canal itself was trivial. I guess I mean head of of stuff unnecessary for modern life.
The failure of others to be able to immediately recall the lyrics and tune is a big disappointment to me. Where are my people? Why did I have to be the one to stage this particular comedy? Why must I continue to perform this gem for an audience of one (myself)? The only comfort in this entire exercise is that at least I appreciate myself.
* This is another bit of absolute hilarity that you would have had to be in a certain time and place to understand how easily I can amuse myself.)
First, I feel that I must start off by apologizing to my husband for waking him up to the smell of cabbage being sauteed with bacon, neither of which he wants to have anything to do with. I was going to say that he was lucky that I didn’t top it off with vinegar when I plated it, but as soon as I finish this post that’s exactly what I’m going to do. There’s enough left in the pan for a second bowlful. Maybe I’ll use soy sauce on that serving and pretend its Moo Shu Pork.
Yesterday, when I was driving around town, I thought of the perfect witty blog post but I didn’t write it down and I can’t remember a thing about it now. So this is what you get.
You know, the Internet didn’t turn out to be what I thought it was going to be. Remember way back when, you would make a post and then get a ton of comments from your regular circle and maybe a few from some random others who wandered by via a search term? Personal blogs – and by that I mean regular people spewing forth whatever comes to mind – are a thing of the past . And I miss them.
Most of those blogs were lousy, boring or a combination thereof. But some were so interesting as to be hypnotic, some were instructive, intentionally or not, and some were just comfortable, pleasant reads from people you never met but you felt like you knew. The bloggers were a random mix of ages, locations and life experiences. Many had their own buzzwords or frequent topics and they became yours to the extent that just hearing that word in real life was the spark that could create your won sympathetic and linked post to be read, enjoyed or gently debated amongst your circle. Where are those blogs now?
Without that community, there’s almost no point to a blog like mine. I don’t want to feel alone in the universe so through the magic of Google, I set out to find other personal blogs.
It is to laugh. There’s plenty of links for personal blogs but don’t even waste your time. Here’s what you get:
individuals that run their own businesses
career advice blogs
and an endless number so how to start your own blog blogs
Looking up my old blogger links is a fruitless exercise. For one reason or another, the links are dead. I just want somebody who can reach out and share. Somebody who can entertain me about what happened when they went out for gas. Somebody who makes jokes with bad photoshop work. Describe your garden without being a big expert about it. And for God’s sake, don’t try to sell me anything.
I’d be more animated about this but I just microwaved 4 slices of bacon and then I immediately ate them, so I’m feeling pretty good about things in general now and can’t get worked up.