Musings.
February 9, 2008
When one undertakes to blog, he or she necessarily feels some obligation to have something to say every day. I confess there are times I can’t shut my mind up — but there are dry spells, too. Unlike some people, I rarely talk aloud to myself. Early on, I recall being told it was a sure sign of insanity — and when I encounter a “constant talker” on the bus it can be annoying, or scary, or both. Cell phone addicts are bothersome, too. Yeah, like I rilly want the intimate details of your life spewed for all to hear endlessly.
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February 9, 2008 at 6:12 am
I think you must be my friend, Dave, in disguise. We’re living apart now because of his job, and he rides the bus daily in the city where he lives. He brings us annoyed uneasy tales each weekend of folks arguing on cell phones or striking up babbling conversations with him when his nose is pointedly in a book.
He’s a writer. I tell him it’s all oral history, the American pageant, grist for his mill. He says, “Try riding the bus week in, week out and see.”
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