Recovered from the Wayback Machine.
Today’s a true fall day, with wind loosened leaves falling into mercurial pools of water on sidewalks dark from rain. And with the weather change comes an attitude of gentle philosophy, reflections on times past. I wonder why the fall triggers a need to dive into the catalogs of our mind, to bring up old memories and relive them again? Is it the leaves floating past on the breeze?
Speaking of memories past, I think that if I could embed any one of my weblog postings in amber, it would be this one, my first posting in Movable Type, April 28th, 2002. I was still in San Francisco, it was the Spring, and our virtual neighborhood was still new and fresh and fun, and we — you and I — would spend time chatting online, in email, by phone.
That was the time that Jonathon started his Dishmatique craze, leading to the Sudsy Men of Weblogging. I beat Jonathon’s rollout to MT by a couple of hours, and it seemed like there was a virtual cascade of webloggers switching to Movable Type at that time.
AKMA was in the midst of a series of debates on postmodernism and forgiveness; Bill Simoni was expecting his first baby; Mark Pilgrim was ramping up on accessibility in a pre-engaged state; Halley was still married, Shannon hadn’t started waitressing, and Huffies was still alive (scroll down to October 2nd). Mike’s wife was still in rehab, her coming home a future hope.
Of course, in the midst of my basking in the golden glow of days of weblogging past, I must remember that in April I hadn’t started reading Dorothea and Loren and Michael yet, and they’ve become part of my daily life now, so there is much to say post-April.
Still, it seems as if we all had a lot more to say six months ago. Gary Turner mentioned this week how quiet things have been lately, a sentiment echoed by my friend Chris. I have to agree. Too many weblogs I’ve visited recently haven’t updated in days, weeks, even months. Perhaps we’re going through a maturation process — posting less frequently, but with more care. Or perhaps, we’re all burning out. How much virtual bonhomie can we all handle?
Leaves floating past on the breeze. This time of year always makes me nostalgic.
