I feel like a negligent parent, even worse, a bad parent. Honest, I really do. I have abandoned this Blog for many months now, not unlike a parent more or less abandoning a child in the hands of a long-suffering relative, with the insincere promise to “be back soon.” Now that I am back, hardly soon, but back nonetheless, like the prodigal son; I must throw myself at the mercy of a blog abandoned to the cobwebs of the worldwide web. It would be presumptuous of me to imagine that I was missed in any measure by my blog and the legions of its phantom readers, but regardless, that feeling of willful abandonment and the need for some restitution persists. But how do you pacify a justifiably angry Blog seething with self-righteous resentment as well as an undermining neediness, grasping for restorative embrace and the promise that will be well from now on. I suspect that I must at least explain where I have been over the last couple of months, and spin a fabulist tale of danger filled adventures in far, far lands and then my triumphant return home, bearing gifts. Forgiveness, restitution, restoration, all is forgiven. But not so fast buddy! The tales, where are the tales?
Well, the tales will have to initially come from my fractured and abbreviated recollections of happenings over the last three months or so pitifully melded into a contemporary narrative. The truth is that I have spent more time on that voyeuristic panopticon called "Fishbowl" sorry "Fishbook," I beg your pardon, Facebook. As expected, I have reconnected with long lost friends; friends that I would rather they remained lost, but they found me! Written on walls "mene mene tekel upharsin" (check out your Old Testament Biblical references Daniel 5:25 I think, and more, appropriate for these times), have people poke me and write on my own wall. In addition there has been the little witticisms of the art of the short form commentary, writing just enough to sound witty and knowledgable, but artfully covering a mountain of ignorance about the pending subject matter. I kind of like that. Indeed, I have built a whole persona on that; the sage old sliverback chomping ruefully on a thick clump of vegetation viewing the world askance and trying to so say much with little, and periodically nodding at the appropriate points of inflection. But alas, that cover is blown. I now have to feed this hungry blog. This I promise to do, as best as I can.