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Wednesday, July 19, 2006

By now you have forgotten me........


It is not that I do not care......it is that I have been lazy and I have not written. Have to admit between playing poker, trying to reinvent my genealogical line and a bit of this and that time goes by.

To put one's mind to string a number of cogent thoughts is sometimes a challenge. If you don't believe me go to one of any spots on my space . com and read almost any of the blogs, email and profiles that are available. Few youngsters either write or can write.... many that do use a form of urban or suburbanbonics. Like almost every other over 50 parent it was my youngsters who alerted me to the new world of internet positioning.

"Did you see the pick from Jen on my space....I'm with that" said Z...my Son's 112 pound wrestling star friend.

" So you have a space Z...where is it"?, I creatively asked.
"Ha, Ha.....You are too much, your Dad is trying to be funny again", Z snapped.
" No, really"...... I realized I was the only person in the room who did not know what my space.com was.

Da Daaaa.....the wonders of Google and presto chango I am in the world of "their space". Lots going on here by the way. High Schoolers, College Age and older are all into my space.....with schools now exercising warning labels about the dangers of predators and sex fiends perusing the pages of the blogs of young people in America. You can be certain there is a lot of adult stuff on the my space world. However, that is not what I was going to write about. There are some craaaaaazzzy my space blogs out there. Forget about that fellow looking for a fifteen year old take a peek around the my space blogosphere it is worth the price of an e-ticket. I found Shaquille O'neil's spot....nice guy and gosh all mightly everybody wants to be his friend. Here is the thing....once you find someone you can see who he has b-friended. Then a whole new world comes crashing your way. By the way did I say Shaquille O'Niel appears to quite a nice fellow.

http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=4314523

Take a peek for yourself. Shaq has 37,000 friends. Hell, that actually is the definition, albeit in England, of a small urban town. More than 37,000 and you are not country any more but urban. Shaq might be a small town unto himself.

http://statistics.defra.gov.uk/esg/rural_resd/rural_definition.asp

Link here and link there...and before long I am wondering why Mistress Bianca who lives in Santa Monica.....has tatoos and multiple piercings....looks good on her photo profile and who wants kids and grandkids...can't seem to find the right man. There is the 40ish engineer who has his engineering information that he is working on right there for all his peers to review. There are church guys.....BDSM couples and students galoooooore. It is possible to drift from one profile to the next traversing the hemisphere.

Here and there someone pops up and it dawns on me.....there is a great my space truth. Everyone is special...it is easy to see when you can see the time and effort put forth to quiz, inform, tantalize, explain and define each of us as human beings. I wonder at the Japanese American, the athlete, the musician, the student and the Goth who lives in Des Moine as they work to make their way through the world. Fact is I like to have a beer, a glass of Oregon Pinot, a whatever.....with a large number of these folks....they seem ...like Shaq...nice people. Even the strippers and porn queen types love their cats and are looking for Mr. Right or Mrs. Right as their nature might deploy. They seem to have a lot of friends as well but have decided not to email anyomore. I guess that is an occupational hazard.

These spots do reflect the world and the reality of life for these good people......I need to go get a space just to see what I might look like. My son and a bunch of his friends don't use conventional email anymore they have moved now to these profile locations where they can "hook up" with their friends.

So what should I call myself?? I think I am going to call up Z....(my direct line to things cool in the 11th grade) and find out what to do.

Til later............

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