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Less Cowardly New World

For some time now, my computer-savvy pal Paul Theodoropoulos has suggested that I update the format of my web site to something more modern and interactive.  I value Paul’s input in these matters, but I continued to resist. I knew my reluctance was based largely in delusion, as these disjointed posts are one of the few things I’ve hung on to as a source of “identity”.  In truth I see myself as being aligned with those folks who prefer little to no web presence. Granted, there are cranks and shut-ins out there with an aggravated form of Internet paranoia akin to rifle heiress Sarah Winchester’s aversion to being photographed. I’m not in this group and at one time did strive to be the highest-ranking Rick Monaco on Google (which led to a long and embittered feud with the better-known Canadian drummer of the same name .. but I digress.)  I do write on occasion, and without these posts my words would likely end up on discarded binder paper or in lost files on my hard drive.  The point is, Paul had a point.

And still I stuck to my delusional guns. I feared any change in my grass-roots style, unformatted, non-linked, comment-free web page would send shock waves through the populace similar to those felt when Bob Dylan went electric. This despite the fact that by my best estimate, and outside of unknown stalkers and folks who really hate me, my entire readership could be counted on the fingers of one hand, and even that of the guy who runs the “Zipper” ride at the Corte Madera Carnival. But I wanted nothing to do with blogs, blogging, bloggers or anything relating to the word. Call it snobbish, misplaced, unwarranted superiority, but it was the position I took.

But today, somewhat reluctantly, all of this changes. Maybe it was the fact that I realized none of my objections made much difference anyway and all I’d really be doing is creating more consistently formatted paragraphs. Or perhaps it was the fact that Paul worked in the wet lab at my family’s company, which was literally the heart of the operation, the same place my dad started out, and an area that remained foreign to me through my entire, guilt-ridden tenure. I can’t say exactly, and it doesn’t really matter. I’ll still be a dinosaur and social outcast, only now I’ll also have a webpage that more closely resembles that guy with the Wilco For Life blog down the street. I suppose it’s about time.

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