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Ahem

December 29, 2006

I have stepblog to thank — or to blame — for getting me into this. She’s been bugging me … I mean, she’s incredibly encouraging, and persistant, and has clued me in about this whole blogging thing. I thought all bloggers were 21st-century Marsha Bradys writing “Dear Diary, today the captain of the football team smiled at me!” I imagined adolescent and post-adolescent techies and gamesters electronically pawing each other for hours on end while the future of the world’s most developed civilization sifts out of their hands.

This is where StepYoda has shown me the force, the force of really excellent writing, insightful, meaningful, entertaining — from her blog and some of those she’s linked to.  She might be a techie, and she might be a gamester, but I know she’s helping preserve the future as a solid parental unit, because I read her updates down this primrose path. And, she’s my age, and it dawned on me that I might be lagging a bit too far behind my peers, technologically. Suddenly I see a whole new crowd of bloggers.

So, this is my feeble attempt to keep up, to stave off stodginess and keep stride with my fellow scribes.

I chose the rather ambiguous “This old porch” for the title from a Lyle Lovett song that, to me, laments the past, celebrates the present and tosses a little spite at those who cheered against us. And, it was the best phrase I could think of at the time. But I did grow up with an old porch, and although the view from mine didn’t exactly present the scene I would have wished, I can imagine how I would have liked it to be.

This old porch overlooks my personal landscape. I can see how I got here and what’s on the horizon. Expect it be heavy on fatherhood and family, because that’s what’s happening just inside.

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2 comments

  1. This is my new favorite blog, I can tell already.


  2. I agree: I also thought that blogs were mostly written by people contemplating their own underwear. Maybe they still mostly are. Yet now I read blogs every day and learn so much. I can’t imagine living without them.



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