The innate poetry of the blog.
in my ongoing quest for "olderwiser" bloggers, periodicallly I check the Ageless Project just to see if there are any new registrants. In linking to someone in NYC who's even older than I am, I discovered a link from that blog to Ron’s amazing poem generator, which uses a software program to make a poem out of anyone's web site. So here's what Ron's cyberpoet did for kalilily time:

kalilily time I were
born on is to make an
Easter Sunday sermon years
older than enough, technology optimism”
to us, the original
post? for you live in.
a chance to buy Hess gas anyway,
since been wrong,
turn on my regular
work on me at least
get that from the
online adult population that poverty But an
Easter people. His methodology is also
honest, open, LETTER
TO a new hip
and stems2000: roughage1970: popping joints1970: our neighbors. As
we live in 1969.That when the
voices and adventuresome will have enough.”

Click here and get a "poem" spun from your blog. I hope it's better than mine.

A money-saving idea that just might work.
I don't know who Phillip Hollsworth is, but an email I got pointed me to a creative idea he posted on how Americans might band together to stop escalating gasoline prices. Read his post for the whole campaign, but here's his basic point:

For the rest of this year, DON"T purchase ANY gasoline from the two biggest companies (which now are one), EXXON and MOBIL. If they are not selling any gas, they will be inclined to reduce their prices. If they reduce their prices, the other companies will have to follow suit. But to have an impact, we need to reach literally millions of Exxon and Mobil gas buyers. It's really simple to do!! Now, don't whimp out on me at this point...keep reading and I'll explain how simple it is to reach millions of people!!

His methodology is one with which most e-mailers are familiar. I figure if I put his link on my blog, I'll have met my requirement to share this call to arms with ten other people. (Ten, huh? I wonder....)

I tend to buy Hess gas anyway, since it's just down the block from me. I'd be curious to know where Hess gets its gas from.

I have only this to say to Dorkvak:
READ MY BLOGLIPS! Or at least get a blog of your own so that we can deconstruct yours. In the meanwhile, keep writing about us. Even without your linking to us, the curious and adventuresome will track us down. We win anyway.

What a weenie!
"Dorkvak" -- another winner from Jeneane of BlogSisters.

We forget that we are on the far side of the Divide.
The Digital Divide is loosely defined as the disparity between those who have access to Internet technology and those who have not.

If you live in America and have access to technology that makes it possible for you to be reading this blog (using statistics reported in a survey I read about on alternet.org but for which I lost the actual page link) you are:
--in the 38 percent of the poorest Americans, those earning less than $30,000, or
--in the 82 percent of Americans in households earning $75,000 or more, or
--in the 15 percent of the 65-and-up group, or
--in the 75 percent of the 18-29 age bracket.

In April of 2000, Forrester Research issued a study on the digital divide that said that income is the determining factor for engaging with the Internet, followed by age, education and "technology optimism."

The Pew Internet & American Life Project, which tracks Internet usage and habits, indicates that the online adult population has hit 56 percent, totaling 104 million adults.

So, we are the lucky ones, right? We belong to that better-than-half of the American population that has enough money, enough education, enough youth (heh -- except for me and a few others) and/or enough “technology optimism” to be wired enough into the Google universe. And because of all those things we have enough of, every day brings us closer to understanding how we are the same as, and how we are different from, and how much we can learn from our intra-planetary neighbors. As bloggers, every day gives us a chance to learn how important it is to be humane in a world of governments that seems to be increasingly lacking in humanity.

We don’t only have “enough.” We have more than enough – more than enough, certainly, than those other Americans who don’t have the money because they don’t have decent jobs because they didn’t get a good education because they went to schools in urban neighborhoods where school budgets were too low to support good teachers, and good libraries= and well-equipped science labs and up-to-date computer labs…….

No, access to computers and the Internet will not solve the problems caused by poverty. But computers and web access in every school located in areas of poverty might be able to give children whose lives are confined by that poverty a chance to better understand the choices and the chances that exist in the larger world -- a better chance to understand the cultures of their neighbors, both in the next block and on the next continent. As they learn to journey the web, they would have a unique chance to hear the heart and humanity in the voices of the people of this planet, a chance that exists no where else. And they even might have a chance to develop their own voices and to discover that there are people out there who will listen to what they have to say.

Now, maybe that isn’t enough. But it sure could be something really good!

I think that Weblogs in Education is on the right track. And the kids' version of Small Pieces that David Weinberger is working on is also on the right track. I wish I could figure out how to get them into the main education station.

The Quick and the Deadly
My mother always tells me that I’m too quick to make decisions, move on things. When a friend of mind came over this afternoon to see if he could fix whatever it was I did to screw up my computer, he made the same sort of comment. After he worked his magic on my computer and left, I started to work on several things at once and almost messed it up again.

I’m trying to remember if I’ve always been too quick and too close to deadly. I know that when I used to write poetry, I would spend slow, easy hours sitting, doodling, ruminating, incubating. Time. I took the time.

I think I began picking up the pace when I started the job from which I recently retired. That was more than twenty years ago. I stayed that much longer than my originally-intended five years because my boss, a woman only a couple of years older than I, gave me plenty of room to innovate, create – as long as I got my regular deadline-sensitive work done. So I learned to juggle many completely unrelated tasks at the same time – each with its own set of deadlines. I had to work quickly, think quickly, decide quickly. I developed a range of unrelated skills. I was good in a crisis, and I loved push-the-envelope kinds of challenges.

I don’t have to be that quick anymore. I can’t function well at that pace anymore. But 20-year old habits are hard to break. As a result, I screw up my computer, among other things.

And I transferred that break-neck pace at which I used to work to blogging. Like I still have something to prove. I don’t have to prove anything. I don’t have to prove anything. I don’t have to prove anything. That’s my new mantra (well, I didn’t really have an old one). I don’t have to prove anything.

Burn the Floor
I'm leaving shortly to meet some friends to see a production of Burn the Floor. That should psych me up to get some dancing of my own in this weekend.

Why is being wrong so hard to admit?
b!X posted something yesterday related to a specific incident of someone pulling a post because he was wrong about something. bIX says: Much is made about how one of the strengths of weblogs is the direct access they give us to a vast expanse of voice. But it's not voice if it's not authentic. And it's not authentic if disdains responsibility.

Why it so hard for most of us to admit that we have been wrong, interpreted something incorrectly, made a assertion based on insufficient thought or evidence. Sometimes we shoot from the hip and totally miss the point. When this happens in our blog, why don't we just write another post that explains what happened rather than "pull" the original post? We are all fallible; we are all human; we all make mistakes every day. Personally, I prefer an "Oops, did I goof!" or a "Wow, I took a wrong turn on that one!" rather than denying, or, just as bad, ignoring that it ever happened or ever was said. Admitting we made a mistake and explaining the turn of mind we took to get that wrong place demonstrates that the sky doesn't fall if we make an effort to create a little more honesty between ourselves and the rest of the world.

"Voice" continues to be a topic of rich discussion on any number of weblogs these days, and I especially was drawn into Sessum's recent post on BlogSisters. Strong, authentic blog voices are potent models for those still struggling to find their own voice, to discover, through writing, who they are at their cores. Some of these strong, authentic blog voices are also honest, open, and responsible. Now that's something we should all strive for -- on and off the Blog.

bIX and the internet: born on the same day
On b!X's newly redesigned blog What Planet Is This, he cites dates that ought to be considered holidays for this new world we live in. One of these is when the first network connection was made. He says:
...the Computer History Museum says:
"After installation in September, handwritten logs from UCLA show the first host-to-host connection, from UCLA to SRI, is made on October 25, 1969. The first ‘Log-In’ crashes the IMPs, but the next one works!"

In short: The Internet and I were born on the same day in 1969.

That wasn't my due date for b!X. I was in low-level labor, so the decision was made to induce. That decision must have sealed his fate, since he's been inextricably bound to the net since they discovered each other.

Things like this are what make life so mysteriously magical.

Just a little chuckle for April Fool's Day.
What a difference 30 years makes! (Of course, I don't identify with ALL of the 1970 references!)

1970: long hair
2000: longing for hair

1970: the perfect high
2000: the perfect high mutual fund

1970: keg
2000: ekg

1970: acid rock
2000: acid reflux

1970: moving to California because it’s cool
2000: moving to California because it’s warm

1970: growing pot
2000: growing pot belly

1970: watching John Glenn’s historic space flight with your parents
2000: watching John Glenn’s historic space flight with your children

1970: trying to look like Marlon Brando or Elizabeth Taylor
2000: trying NOT to look like Marlon Brando or Elizabeth Taylor

1970: seeds and stems
2000: roughage

1970: popping pills, smoking joints
2000: popping joints

1970: our president’s struggle with Fidel
2000: our president’s struggle with fidelity

1970: Paar
2000: AARP

1970: killer weed
2000: weed killer

1970: hoping for a BMW
2000: hoping for a BM

1970: the Grateful Dead
2000: Dr. Kevorkian

1970: getting out to a new hip joint
2000: getting a new hip joint

1970: Rolling Stones
2000: kidney stones

1970: screw the system
2000: upgrade the system

1970: passing the driver’s test
2000: passing the vision test

970: "Whatever…"
2000: "Depends"

Funny Bunny
Got this from Tish. He's a persistent bugger, but if he catches you, you can shake him off if you try really hard. Happy Bunny Day.

We live in a Good Friday world, but we are Easter people.
I'm quoting that from my local newspaper today -- a column by Diane Cameron, who is quoting something a minister said in an Easter Sunday sermon years ago. As Anita and others look at the glass, trying to decide whether it's half-full or half-empty, it's nice to have another metaphor to think about, one that reminds us of our human potential to rise out of our own ashes.

Are you feeling a little altruistic today?
Many of us, including me, blog because doing so gives us a sense of self-satisfaction. But that’s not all we can accomplish through these writings of ours. Sometimes we can help to do some good for someone else.

This is a site that went live yesterday, and many bloggers have made it their mission to get the word out as widely as we can to generate support for this amazing boy. I’ve had information about this effort from someone I trust, so I know that is a real project to help Thomas Pacheco, a very real boy in very real need. So, check it out, please.

Happy Eostre
This is from a pieceabout the origins of Easter.
Spring holidays have been celebrated at least since the beginning of recorded history. They all mark the end of winter when the earth sleeps and the start of the spring session when everything seems to be reborn.

Early people believed that each season was ruled by a certain deity. There was a deity called Eostre, the goddess of spring, who was worshipped in the northern and central parts of Europe. Her name is believed to have come from the word to describe the direction of the sunrise - "east." Some think the word Easter came from the same source. Every spring people in these regions held festivals to honor and thank Eostre. They offered her cakes that are similar to hot cross buns.

Some early tribes believed that things found in nature, such as bodies of water, mountain and trees, had their own spirits. It is believed that the May Day festivals started as a tree worshiping rite. The ancient Druids, a pre-Christian religious sect found mostly in Britain and France, thought that trees, and most especially oak trees, were sacred objects. The Druids prayed to the trees for sunshine, rain, and to make the earth fertile.

Ah. Sychronicity. (See previous post.)

March winds are blowing, but at least it’s not snowing.
It is 65 degrees in Albany, NY today, and I took my mom out for a walk around the building, where we ran into Alice, a lovely woman whom my mother met when she first moved in here. So I left them to sit in the sun together and proceeded to take a more energetic 3-mile walk on my own.

There is a short path through a wooded area that I often like to take to have a least a brief illusion of being away from cement and human structures. I was remembering the secluded house I used to own in the country, set up on a hill where an ancient oak presided in its enduring solidity. In moments of despair or sadness or even boredom, I used to stretch my arms around its trunk (I could barely reach an eighth of the way around), lean my cheek against its weathered bark, and breathe into its essence whatever it was that was keeping me from engaging with the vitality of my life. In those intimate moments with that stoic oak, I understood the reverence that the ancient Druids felt for the divinity inherent in nature.

So on my trek through the woods today I looked for a replacement for my old confidant, and I found one – younger, less imposing, perhaps less divine. I don’t know. But as I stretched my arms around its trunk (I could reach almost half way around) and leaned my cheek into its rough hide, I again felt that mythic connection to its fundamental durability, its elemental link to the very heart of this mother planet. Like the priests at Dodona, I asked for truth. And the March winds continued to blow.

Don't Do It, Burningbird!
Shelley says that she's going to exercise her right to spontaneously combust her weblog. Among other stresses of life, she's intensely job hunting. Lately she's also felt the heat of heavy criticsm over the wires. I hope that she also can feel the heartfelt warmth from those of us who admire her courage to speak truths others don't want to hear, her articulate cybertongue, her fiery heart, and the inspiration she have given us to reach for our own blog potential. For many many of us, to have her leave blogdom is like a death. If she has to leave, for all kinds of reasons, then I hope she knows that we will welcome and celebrate her resurrection when it comes.

This is not a black and white world.
I've heard it said that there are always three sides to every story: his, hers, and the truth. In this case, it's not even that simple. But there are two very clear sides, two very real realities, and I cannot help but hear the point that this side is making. In an interview with CNN's Bill Hemmer, this is what Usama Hamdan, a spokesman for the Palestinian terrorist group, had to say about the situation in the Middle East.

HAMDAN: I am not talking about eliminating Israel. I am talking about fighting for freedom against Israel's occupation of our lands. Israel is always, always trying to talk about (Palestinians wanting) to eliminate Israel. But as Palestinians, we are talking about the occupation.

The Palestinians will continue their struggle against Israel until they reach their goals. The main goal for the Palestinians now is to repatriate their lands and have their own state.

HEMMER: If there's any chance of Israel returning the West Bank and Gaza, there has to be some sort of cease-fire worked out, and then a peace agreement worked out after that. So why not hold back on your fire and see what can happen at the negotiating table?

HAMDAN: You are talking about cease-fires. Two months ago, (Palestinian leader) Yasser Arafat announced a cease-fire, and for three weeks no attacks were launched against Israel. But after three weeks, Sharon attacked the Palestinians -- he killed two of their leaders, one from Hamas and the other from Fatah.

After that, we understood that there is no real cease-fire with the Israeli government, that they want this cease-fire as a trick to continue their operations against our people. So if they want a real cease-fire, they are supposed to withdraw their tanks from our cities.

They are supposed to announce the cease-fire from their side first. We are not asked to do that because we are under occupation. You can't ask us, with the knife on our neck, to raise up our hands -- we must fight not to make this knife cut our necks. So you can't talk about a cease-fire while he's killing our people.

For the Palestinians, that is their side of the story. That is their reality. That is their truth. It is as true and real for them as their enemy's reality is true for that side. Neither group is willing to relinquish any of the "truths" that it insists are the only real reality. It's like a street gang war magnified ten thousand times. It is men-who-should-know-better taking testosterone-driven street-justice to its inhuman extremes. What in hell do they think their almighty God thinks of what they are doing!

No wonder I tend toward female chauvanism and irreverent non-belief.

Oh, this is just too perfect!
I used to have something on my site to keep track of the number of hits, and I probably will put it on my newly designed site when it's ready. But I'm afraid that I'll start posting things that will push up my hit numbers rather than stay true to the whole reason I started blogging originally. I have to admit, however, that Mike Sanders' suggestion for a "Google Persuader" is priceless.

Here's what he says to do:
Go to this page of popular Google Search terms and try to use every term in a paragraph on your blog. If you can use them in the same order that they are listed, with as few words as possible, it is even better:
[example] The Oscars awarded Halle Berry a pre-Easter present as well as bringing Elin Nordegren and Jennifer Connelly to our attention. I don't know much about Alex Baroni or Ostern, but Passover is coming and I think Ali G and Celine Dion are involved in some sort of controversy.

Ya gotta love it and love Mike for thinking it up.

As time slips into the future.
More of my past is gone again, with the passing on of Dudley Moore (just four years older than I am now) and Milton Berle. Uncle Miltie was a weekly staple on our black and white miniature TV back in Yonkers, New York in 1948. He brought transvestitism into our very living rooms and we loved it. He is the icon of Drag Queens. He played right to the camera with his zany "off-side" remarks, and we laughed and loud and loved every minute of his stap-stick antics. Good-bye Uncle Miltie.

In many ways, the importance of the deaths of these two extraordinary men pales in the face of the deaths of thousands upon thousands of good and ordinary people. But there is always the Big Picture and the Little Picture for each of us. Moore and Berle now. My mom, I imagine, within the next five years, and then it's me and my generation waiting at the finish line. I can't help think about that and what I want to do with the years I have left. I can't help wonder if some of what I'm doing is what I should be doing.

David Landsman tells a funny-but-oh-how-true story on his blog today about the conversations of a couple of check-out girls about "old people." Yes, it's relative. But yes, it's also all too real when it's real.

What's your number?
Got tothis enneagram test via a link from Tish.
I came out a Two.
Twos are defined by their empathy of other people. They are uniquely gifted at tuning in on the feelings of others. This makes them great networkers. They feed on their connection to others, love of friends and family. However being too caught up with other people can drain them, and cause them to lose track of their own personal well being.

Sounds typical for all of us actively "sandwich generation" people.

I keep forgetting that this is not the old real world.
In the old real world, I used to dream of having a forum – maybe a column in a newspaper -- that maybe thousands of people would read. I could put all of my views out there and people I didn’t even know would read them. And maybe I could persuade them to agree with my point of view. Or maybe I could inspire or encourage people who think as I do to speak out as well. But these people really wouldn’t know anything about me personally, so, if I wanted to, I also could risk irritating, antagonizing and, disagreeing with them with all the verbal vehemence I could muster. In the old real world.

In the old real world, before email, before blogging, I used to write letters. All the time. Letters to old college chums, old beaus, former students – people who knew me long and well. I could say just about anything I wanted in those letters. I knew that they would understand that sometimes I get carried away and get confrontational, aggressive, hard-headed. They would know how to call me on it without taking it personally.

Sometimes I forget that this is not the old real world. This is the web. And this is the blogging network on the web comprised of tenuous connections with only partially understood personalities. And that partial understanding works both ways.

I find that I am trying to make old dreams real in a world that is not the old real world. A blog is not a newspaper column with a lot of anonymous readers. And it is not a letter that I am writing to someone who has known me long and well and will understand that sometimes I come on really strong – and will forgive me.

I guess I have am finally coming to personal grips with the intellectual and intelligent discussions that have been going on ever since blogging started. What is it? Journalism? Diary entries? Commentary? What is our responsibility to our readers? Do we have any responsibility? I don’t know the answers. But my putting myself in the middle of some serious and uncomfortable blog dynamics is finally making me take these questions to heart. I suspect the wise path would be let allow my heart to figure it out.