Having just written about blogs, I want to add that I hate the word “blog”. “Blogging” is no better, and “blogger” is even worse. “Blog” is an ugly word, bringing to mind “blob” and “blot”. “The Blog”: A horror movie. “Blogger”: Something nasty in a swamp.
I’m not the only one who feels that way. In fact this modest post was prompted by an American swimmer in Australia for the championships who said: "I just don't like that word – blog. It was a year before I even knew what it meant."
I could have said the same thing six months ago. I really was so put off by the word that I didn’t want to learn more about it. Finding out that it meant “Web log” or “Weblog” didn’t help. “Log” sounds boring unless it refers to something written by an Portuguese maritime explorer or a pirate captain. Ship’s logs contain more statistics than excitement. Individuals write diaries, but who writes a “log”? What misty-eyed teenager ever wrote, “Dear Log. . .”
Where can the romance possibly be in a “log”? Maybe that’s why every blog I’ve seen has been devoid of sex appeal. They might as well have been written by Carmelite monks. And I can’t claim to be an exception, even though like most males I think about females and sex at least once every two minutes. (It used to be once a minute, but now I’m a lot older.) Why is it that people who are willing to offer their personalities and thoughts to the entire world like a Christmas turkey would be reluctant to mention the sensual aspects of human relationships?
But, as usual, I’ve strayed: I hate the word “blog”. Is it too late to do anything about it? And can you think of a better word?
In terms of time, this has been a nice week with some substance to it – not one of those weeks when the days skipped by like pebbles skimmed on a pond. Some weeks I realize that it’s Friday and think, “but wasn’t yesterday Monday?” This morning I happily realized, to the contrary, “It’s only Friday! There's more of this week to enjoy.”
Psychological time is involved, and the depth of the impression of ordinary experiences. Sometimes actual time moves faster or slower – but because everything slows or speeds up simultaneously you can’t detect the change except by an instant of intuitive sensing, in the way that your body senses that a train is slowing down a little even though everything looks and sounds the same. And of course psychological time – as contrasted with the “real time” I was just talking about -- also moves faster or slower, depending on whether one is waiting for a late train or rushing to finish a job before a lunch meeting.
This week I am valuing the perception that real time has moved slower, allowing me to savour the days. Not that anything special happened this week. In fact one of the nice things about it was the absence of things hanging over me, the absence of appointments with dentists or doctors or veterinarians, the lack of mechanical and electrical breakdowns, the dearth of domestic crises.
The things I count on the good side were mild things: The vernal equinox and the contagious enthusiasm of Iranian Web essayists about Norooz. A visiting fleet of UFOs – tiny flying insects, reflective bodies mere specks of morning sunlight, hovering motionless in small groups, an individual occasionally darting out and back or away with incredible speed. What are they? What are they doing?
The weather has gradually grown warmer, so that I was able to go swimming yesterday and will be even more comfortable today. The sky is sunny, the breezes are frisky, and flower buds are appearing everywhere. When I saw that the two orange trees are covered with white buds I set up a sprinkler. One year the citrus blossoms failed to develop because of drought, and so this year I’m supplying the rain. The lemon tree is already in full lavender bloom, and so I gave it a drenching too. Only the grapefruit lags. Will it blossom? It was the most fruitful tree of all last year, and now it sits bloomless. Maybe, as I am finally learning, it needs to accept gladly Nature's cycles of indolence and productivity.
So, that’s how this nice week has gone – good health, good food, good energy, good sensual pleasures, good swimming, a moment of equilibrium in the solar system, and a sense of personal creativity replacing a period of dormancy.
