Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Please come back. We miss you.

Sometime I see virtual dead people.

It's creepy f-reals.

Like, when I go to Tammie's blog, and she hasn't posted in months but that cute half-naked chick is still standing there with the fish in her underwear. It makes me miss Tammie's posts, even though we're in touch in other ways and I know that her husband is still awesome and her kids still drive her nuts (but not as much as the old folks who are out to get her).

Or when I go to Buzzardbilly's place, only to find it's not there (well, OK, it's 'open to invited readers, but I've not yet gotten MY invite, so it's as good as dead). Sure, through the power of the internet I know in general terms what she's up to and that she likes Clownvis and that Freddie Mercury should rise from the grave THIS VERY INSTANT so all can be right with the world again, but the brief flickers of insight are mere shades of the vivid personality who used to rail against those who dared stereotype her beloved West Virginia.

Mr Schrock, Dr. Sardonicus, No Celery Please.

Trinamick.

Biff Spiffy.

My blogroll is where lots of good blogs have gone to die, it seems. And that makes me sad.

Now, I'm sure some of you are saying, 'uh, aren't you, like, MARRIED to Biff? Can't you pretty much, erm, CONNECT with him when you want? Why would you need him to post when you're both living under the same roof?' and you might have a point, but here's the thing:

Each of us has a voice that we use on our blogs that is ever-so-subtly different from who we are in the real world. When we write in our blogs, whether it's topical, angry, ranty, insightful, or just plain silly, we bring along a whole catalog of inner conversation that informs the manner in which we write. We have time to THINK while writing, to form whole thoughts instead of slim converzational snips of interplay. The voices in our head get distilled into a slightly different 'us' from what our neighbors and coworkers know. And so, when people with wonderful online personalities drop off the face of the earth, it's very much like losing a friend, even if we happen to be married to one of the people we used to love reading.

I miss Tammie, and NCP, and BB, and Biff, and all the others who have either lost interest in blogging (hey, it happens. i guess), lost time to blog, lost a place to blog, or just walked away from blogging in order to go live real life. I miss who they were online, even if I do sleep with one of them and can reach out to the others almost any time I choose.

My little community is getting smaller and smaller; with each dead blog I wonder if this one is simply a quaint place to unload to a vanishing audience.

If so, I suppose that's OK, but it's rather like shouting down a well. Nobody but YOU is going to shout back.

To those of you who I've named here today, know that you are missed and I'll just bet that there's more than one of us who wishes like mad you'd tickle the keyboard once more to let us reconnect with what's going on in your heads. To those of you I didn't name but who have, nonetheless, turned your back on the bloggery, know that at some future point I'll probably snatch your name out of the bag of rant and call you out on how badly you've disappointed me.

You're welcome.


Amen.

----

That's it from here. Biff just walked through the door. I need to go, uh, do some connecting.

Tiff out.

No comments: