Sunday, December 13th, 1998
Boy, it’s nice and quiet around here, but then again, it’s darn near five in the morning, so I guess that isn’t surprising. I’ve gone through an evening of strange mental wanderings…from filling my mind with the realities of Atlanta media for my latest Media Rare to trying to remember the name of someone I met in 1988 to looking up a bunch of old friend’s names on AltaVista or Switchboard or one of those intrusions on our privacy.
Then, I went back and read a bunch of my old journal stuff from the late eighties, was stunned by my naive mind, and then began a surfing extravaganza that bounced me from one side of the internet to the next.
Then I checked through some old emails and was stunned to find that the last time I thought about talking with some of my old Goddard friends was, indeed, about one year ago to the day.
One of the things on my desk, virtual or otherwise, is the holiday letter we’re sending out with cards. Sammy tackled it, and for the most part managed to cram in the significant events of the past two years of our lives. Reading it over, it seems as if we travel a great deal, and our happiest times are seeing people we care about. No surprises there, I guess. She also makes it sounds as if I have a terrifyingly large number of computers on my desk. Okay, three.
I think one of the strangest things is that although I’ve been following the news fairly precisely, I feel completely disconnected from the events in Washington. The House Judiciary Committee is casting a historic vote, and I (like many others) feel a sense of "oh, of course they would do that. Right along party lines? Of course. Clinton is apologetic? Sure, that’s what we’d expect too."
So onward to the end of this year, which as I point out in one of those Media Rares, is just some arbitrary boundary. I’m sure that when the cosmic odometer flips from 1999 to 2000, I’ll have that same sense of "oh, of course."
Enjoy your holidays, we wish you, friend or stranger alike. And if you’re a friend who hasn’t reconnected in a while, make the first move and make me feel guilty. OK?