Steve, here, again. This time writing from back home in California, having dropped Chopin at the kennel and flown home from Columbia County earlier in the week.
Ian, meanwhile, somehow sprung unexpectedly directly from Acadia on the shores of Maine to a remote Pennsylvania hilltop above the Delaware Water Gap, whence he called weakly on his cell to ask me to fill in again. If Ian and I were attached with a long bungee cord, we would fly past each other and be flung from the world altogether.
A word about blogs: Blogs are neither diaries, nor columns, nor serialized novels—and yet blogs are all of these things. A blog is whatever each blogger makes it, whether purposely or not. A blog is expression without obligation. Each blog, whatever its character, has an audience. If a blog doesn’t speak to you, there are millions more to try.
When Ian began blogging, I urged him to blog like ’01 bloggers did, in pithy, one-line comments linked to interesting finds. Fortunately, he ignored my advice and made his blog his own medium. It serves him. It often serves us family members and, I think, a fairly wide circle of friends. It is worthwhile whether or not it serves anyone outside of that circle, as is every other blog, whatever its form.
Finally, and for no particular reason, here is the ticket stub from the movie we saw in Great Barrington, which for some reason I can’t find in IMDB.