Category: Weblogging

You’ll have to excuse me today, for I seem to be in a non-weblogging sort of mood. It’s not that there isn’t anything interesting in weblogdom to comment on — there are interesting threads all throughout the weblogging community.

For instance, there’s a thread on comments and weblogging being pursued by Jonathon and Chris as well as others referenced in these postings. Of course, there’s the Dvorak article, but I’ve been there, done that — most of us had, and we’re getting tired of the man.

There’s also more on the future of blogging at Dan Gillmor and Andrew Sullivan, both found through Scripting News.

TX Meryl has a nice posting on why she values people on the Net, including NJ Meryl so much. Have you all noticed how gentle, kind, and sharing TX Meryl is? If you haven’t, time to get your heads out of the flame wars and spend some time with the giving folks.

Hmmm. I guess I am commenting on the threads, aren’t I? Still, for some reason today I want to talk about something else:

I want to talk kites, and kite flying.

Probably one thing that transcends cultural differences is kites. Kites are made, and flown, the world over. There’s few children that haven’t built a flimsy device out of paper and fragile wood and then promptly crashed it into something such as a tree, ala Charlie Brown. Of kites, I once wrote the following:

—

For most of us, our first kites are little diamonds made of very fragile wood and paper, tied to a long, long string. We’d put them together, sometimes with the help of a parent or other adult, and take it out for a trial flight. I don’t know about you all, but I had my first lessons in flight, wind, and flight without wind, with a kite.

Someone had to hold the kite and run backwards very quickly, tossing the kite high into the air. If the wind was right, up the little diamond would fly. If the wind wasn’t right, whoever your flying partner was had a marvelous workout. “Run faster! Run faster!”, you’d scream. “I am running”, they’d scream back, face red, puffing like a blowfish. Half the fun of kite flying was watching the poor soul desperately trying to get the kite into the air so they could sneak off to collapse while you were distracted.

After quickly breaking these kites, or losing them into a tree, or having them removed because we “buzzed” the family cat, we either progressed on to sturdier models or, for most of us, we went on to other toys, other hobbies.

Unless we happen to become someone else’s flying partner some day (“Run faster. Run faster”) that’s the last experience many people have with kites.

However, for a lucky few, kites re-enter our lives. And this time, they stay.

—

Flying a kite.

Throwing a kite into the wind and hoping it catches; sending the kite dancing on transparent bands of air that originate here in this place and there in that country and high in on this mountain, and and low, skimming the ocean, until they reach you and your kite. And you soar! Can’t you just feel the tug of the string in your hand, head back, eyes on a bright spot high overhead?

Throwing a kite into the wind and the wind is fickle, maybe even a little mean, and it catches your kite only to throw it down to the ground at spar breaking speeds, out of control, spiraling. Ground breaking thud. Wince. You swear you hear ghostly evil laughter whip past you as it seems to pick your kite up off the ground only to send it thuding back again and again, until your kite is a tattered remnent of cloth and broken wood.

Standing alone on a beach and trying to get your kite to rise and no wind wants to play. You kite just sits there, and you have no one to grab it and run with it, hoping to tease one single puff of air into noticing your kite long enough to take it for at least the most gentle ride.

There is nothing more forlorn then a kite flyer on an empty beach with a kite and no wind. Still….

…there is that anticipation of the next flight, the next wind, the next moment of soaring that keeps you coming back again. And again. And again.

Very long day today with some tough times, interspersed with bits of hurt and difficulty but hey — The Bird bounces and continues. I am nothing if not resilient.

I just left a vlog (“voice blog”) on Gary’s answering machine. I hope I didn’t say anything that would get him in trouble if someone else in the company picks up the message. Pretty tired tonight so the message was probably incoherent and fatigued. I hope I don’t scare the man.

Rogi was a gutsy man and posted his photo today. And Gary posted an MP3 file of Sharon’s voice. Both were very pleasant surprises. Nice moments of sharing — thanks!

We are a shy bunch, aren’t we? It’s interesting finally seeing the face or hearing the voice of people you literally “talk” with on a daily basis. If you all think about it, we in the virtual neighborhood talk together more frequently than we do with most of our realspace friends and relatives (immediate family excluded of course). However, we have never met and would easily pass each other on the street without a blink or a nod.

I wonder if we don’t talk more freely because we don’t see each other in realspace. Tell me — do you talk more openly on your weblog than with the people you work with, or your casual friends? In realspace, I’m quite shy and reticent except when I’m talking technology at conferences, in meetings, at work and such.

(Though I have been known to babble when I’m nervous. And giggle at times, which is surprising for a woman who is close to six feet tall — yup, you read that correctly. I once had a guy come up to me on the streets of Seattle and say “Wonder Woman!” I took it as a compliment. )

Speaking of baring all, since Rogi and Sharon have shared — and TX Meryl has shared in the past — I did a little self photo of myself , which isn’t very good but at least it won’t break your monitor. Sorry — no glamorous babe. No hot chick. Just me. Update Ahem. Very Tired Me.

Now, on to other more interesting topics in my next posting. Though the TechBlog has been getting fairly juicy today…

I think that Mike Golby has some real mixed feelings about Australia beating South Africa at Cricket:

Good cricket is always a pleasure to watch. Great cricket is a delight and the Aussies continue to deliver in spectacular fashion. Cricket worldwide will have to step up a gear or five if any team is to play on the same park as the Mean Machine from Down Under.

Good on yer, you bastards

Being a yank, with little or no idea about what cricket is other than it seems to have something to do with ball and a bat and rather prissy uniforms, it’s rather fun to see reactions to sports such as these from a dispassioned “Well, I’m sure it’s all very good, but it isn’t American Baseball, now is it?” point of view.

Do they really say “out for a duck”?

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Well, this is bad news for his weblogging fans: Allan has said that he’s closing down his weblog for a time due to “…circumstances beyond his control”.

Allan, if there’s anything any of us can do to help, holler! If it’s something we can’t help with, then all I can say is you will be missed every day that you’re not posting!

Damn.

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“My grandmother is dying. The doctor says she only has about two or three weeks to live”.

Victor shares a difficult time for him, the upcoming death of a beloved Grandmother.

Saying good-bye — it seems to be a coming together of all the best times of a shared life; glad memories that fill the moment with love and foreseen loss until a peace and grace that transcends all things settles in, and looks back at you from eyes you’ve come to know so well.

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Well, trying to adapt the weblog ring code to work within a weblog was an interesting exercise. I’m all tired out.

Due to a combination of antibiotics, altitude change, bad food, heavy stress, and overwhelming moments of lightness of being, I find that I’m not feeling good at all today. Bad, bad headache, very tired, in a very reflective mood.

It does not help to come home and find that the Argentinian ants are back, have found a new entrance into my place, and have set out trails. Time for a bleach wash again, as well as more yelling at management (“They’re in your place, they’re your responsibility.” “Well, they didn’t fly through the window to get to my place, they’re in your infrastructure!”).

If you think living on the 4th floor of a concrete condo would save you from pests of this nature, think again. These little critters will actually climb around the rings of a screw top lid in order to get to the contents.

The smell of bleach is not going to go with my headache.

See below. Join now. The Bird that Burns Wants You!

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interesting because a while back, Sharon also had trouble with weblog ring membership, in this case Blogsnobs.

There are few things I dislike more in the world than restricted memberships. The only restriction that should occur within a community is the one where a person opens the door, listens a bit, and decides that this particular place isn’t the place for them and continues on. Every community may not appeal to every person, but the person should make the decision, not the group.

So, I did something about the weblog ring thing. I created a new weblog ring I call Bloggers with Attitude. Anyone who loves to weblog and has a sense of humor — or at least a sense of perspective — can join. There are no restrictions. No criteria. No geographical limitation. No restriction on language used. No limitation of topic. This is a ring for a community of people who drift on by one day and take a peek and say to themselves “Well, hey. There’s some interesting people here. I think I’ll float in and join hands with the party, see how it goes”.

All I need to get this going is three other weblogs to join. So here’s my invite:

Shelley Powers, otherwise known as The Burning Bird hereby invites you to a new weblog ring. The only criteria for this ring is a desire to laugh, cry, chuckle, snarl, get pissed, get sad, love life, like people, discover new things, explore new territories, open your minds, open your hearts, and above all, have fun — at least once a day.

Bloggers with Attitude Ring Hub

Gone for a few days and Jonathon gets comments, and Rogi is off in Ireland and Lisbon. Cat postings, paintings, and what have you are making the rounds, each posting the weblogger’s equivalent of “take that, Dvorak!”

And Mike wasn’t kidding — he was going to talk about blogrolling next. As for my blogroll buddies, these are all people with things to say, and who are usually kind enough to stop by and sit a spell, leave a comment here and there. They are all interesting people.

-earlier-

Hey.

Well, didn’t we all get down and have a wild party on one of my postings. I going to have to add more categories for higher numbers of comments. Perhaps something along the line of “40 mice got together and beat the shit out of the bird”, or to that effect.

I still have to unpack and do laundery and try and recover from my first — and I promise you — last time crossing the Bay Bridge during a rush hour. However, I have a great story to tell you, which I need to work on and will post later. I have a few pics, but didn’t even try to capture the scenery on this trip. I will say that this is one incredibly beautiful country.

More later.

P.S. White Castle is a part of Americana, as with Route 66 and the classic diner. Arby’s is just “McDonald’s does roast beef”.

Looks like the Boys of Blogging are heading out for a brew with the champion beer taster of Oz.

Of course, we know that they will sip their brew (or “piss” as they affectionately refer to it) rather than chug it down. And we know that they’ll limit themselves to a decorous 1-2 beers rather than 5, 9, 12 or more. After all, bloggers do everything with restraint, don’t we?

No inebriated night of debauchery for these gentlemen. No siree. Besides, Garth is getting married soon…he has to behave himself.

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As can be seen from the time markups, all of my favorite webloggers are ahead of me in time. Their tomorrow is my today at some point. Or my today is their yesterday, from their perspective.

I can watch the weblogs come online as one would watch the sun rise in the East, set in the West. First up is members of the Australian Delegation (the +19); next is Chris in South Korea (+17) — depending on his consumption of plum wine, of course. Following is Mike in South Africa (+10), and then the Europeans such as Gary and A Secret Smile (+8), followed by Rogi in the Azores (+7). Finally comes the yanks in the state, Eastern part of the country first.

My blog is last to rise, last to set. Well, in the virtual neighborhood, that is.

Anyhow, on a related note, Sharon and I have been discussing a get together when I’m in the Washington DC area in May speaking at Nextware. If you’re an East Coaster, or if you’re attending NextWare, and are interested in a meet, holler, and we’ll see if we can’t work out a true blog party.

-earlier-

Chris sent me an email asking what the little “+xx” values were attached to each blog to the left. I answered that they were each blogger’s sex rating. Well, he was quite pleased with his rating. I imagine the Aussies would be quite pleased, too. However, Doc and others local to myself might be a tad uptight.

In case you’re curious, the numbers represent the time difference — in hours — between my home base and the other weblogs.