There are WPers I genuinely miss.
One or two old dewds [a categorization near and dear to me] who are absent from WP for long periods. Weeks. Months. That’s an event [or non-event, if you will] that makes the old thumper0 go bumpity-bump, knowing we old dewds sometimes rudely just up and die. It’s not, as far as I am able to understand at present, you surely see, that we have much choice in the matter. Anyway, never met (most of) these gents except through comment exchanges. One or two I’ve taken to the bench to avoid public spectacle. Some I know are still aggravating the snot out of real people as they look in on my drivel regularly. Nonetheless, I miss their insightful and occasionally odd suppositions. And those I can’t “see” in stats or comments raise my concern. To the point I’ve gone private with inquiry.
Two thoughts on us old dewds.
We (old dewds) should lay-out a way Sig-Os, once the insurance money is spent, the flowers wilted, and life, as it always does, moves inexorably on, can sit down1 in front of abandoned keyboards, pull-up a “when I die” document and post and email to networks who in this scenario would otherwise wait a real long time before finding out FlashFinger203 now blogs on another site, that is, is no longer among the living.
Two: (I said there were two; I am a man of my word until numbers exceed my ability to comprehend, or my mental prowess disposes of a promise innocently as a function of failing mental acuity.) My extreme conservatism, cynical outspokenness, and perceived gender bias2, has by design or the sagacity of WP readers, mostly limited me to male WP associates. Lady people don’t trust me, and I don’t trust them for reasons I cannot explore lest this become not a ramble but a rant. I suppose there are some “older” lady people (because their WP handles are such as SmartMouth221, MotorMouthGxy, or some such accompanied by profile “pics” devoid of gender-specificity3) who might be (pardon me) dewdettes I’d similarly miss were I to assume them male or (impossibly) understand them well enough to relax my standards of conduct.
Then, there are folk who just fade away.
Fade away? Yeah. Post regularly and look in on me with the same regularity. Then one of two disasters visit.
My posts lose any appeal4 to these folks. I have two really bad creative days and I’ve lost another follower. Or I can’t sustain three days posting about the Ishpakeepsie Marble Tournament, 2015. (Frankly, I lost interest in the match when Thumbs Rathbone knocked Warts Mc Schooner out of the contest. And it was after all, six years ago!)
There was never a real interest in what I had to write. Maybe hopes that I would eventually deliver were crushed when I didn’t. Once in a while, it’s the case that the “fader” isn’t posting any more or with short regularity and only looks to see others when on WP to complete a post. (Gasp! Some people have lives?)
The Train from Chicago to Denver does not return to Chicago.
Secret. For reasons obvious, I fade away too. I’m not embarrassed. Disappointed but not embarrassed.
Another secret. Once in a while. I look-up a “fader.”
Because I miss them.
0 Why not zero? It’s a number, innit? The heart as the receptacle of strong emotion – love, hate, fear, amusement? Pap and I had a long discussion about that more years ago than many of you are old. The heart is just a blinking machine. The stomach on the other hand is a real organ of sensual perception if not intelligence, the least of which is hunger. Teen kid – that first crush. Did your chest hurt? Nope. But golly your stomach churned like a cyclone. Summich cut you off on the interstate – your heart swell with hate? Nope, but your stomach puts out enough acid to recharge a Tesla. Your heart shiver when you’re scared? Nope. But the butterflies in your stomach are the size of elephants and in mid-stampede. [In this case, the only other candidate to be emotional poster child is your bladder. Enough said.]
1Sit down. Anybody “sit up” in front of a keyboard?
2 Better betcha ‘gender bias.’ No matter how you look at it. I get on (surprise, surprise!) better with males of the same gender as myself. Constipationally, comes to appreciating the mystery, beauty, and charms of gender, I much more appreciate them in the female camp. To look at, to argue with, to be around, to match wits with. Greater challenge.
3 It is difficult to develop a complex WP-relationship unaware of the gender of the other side of conversations. Male, or female, or ‘I’d rather not say,’ or indeterminate, I respectfully hold back on tone, substance, humor, and language when commenting unless I have a reasonable mental profile of my correspondent. Somewhat true if I have no clue as to the age of the other side of a WP conversation.
4 Understandable. I do not post the same style, form, subject matter, or length consistently. Imma Heinz57 poster. Short story one day, poem another (rare) day, a rant or semi-rant, a piece of flash fiction. Detective Noir. Small town vignette. Personal snapshot. Conversational humor. Range? Don’t ever bet on me – I’ll go 50 words one day, 2,000 the next. Um, I’m not a blogger in blog tradition either. Not “today I…” Not “This recipe is fabulous and will take only about six hours to pull together.” And not “if you don’t want to visit my sponsor’s site, at least buy my latest compendium of poetry ‘Straight Jacket Jamboree’.”
5 See? I do have trouble with enumerated lists.