disturbing the comfortable

Hmm. I've been looking at a lot of blogs and I noticed I ain't listed on any of them. So, I looked at something called "Lefty Blogs," which has a bunch of Oregon-based sites. As I understand it, this blog isn't local enough; I write about things all over the place—whatever it is that catches my eye and or my mind. Sigh. Guess I'm once again, not quite with-it or hip enough or whatever to be in the eye of things. That got to me; I felt uninspired and discouraged. But then—

—but then I thought, Oh fuck 'em. I don't write to be accepted by other people. Been there, done that. I write what I want to write about and I know what I write is pretty good. No long analyses of why Bend is a whore being pimped by realtors and sub-dividers, or the politics of destination resorts and county commissions, or why the Republicans are a bunch of social neandertals (they just are, that's all—trust me on that), or what the reasoning is that allows good Oregon farmland to be turned into strip malls.

I'm not a grad student in sociology nor am I a wannabe reporter for the local rags. I'm me. Sixty-eight years old, gimped up, poor, cynical, a veteran of the sexual revolution, the drug revolution, and a couple of other interesting events. That's good enough.