It was a dark and stormy night....
Well....it's not very dark. And it's not stormy, but as I write this, it is night. It is actually quite nice here in south east Texas, in my secret lair, where I sit and create this first blog post. Like Al Gore inventing the internet, I am sure that this night will soon be forgotten.
Blog. Now who came up with such a term? I feel I need to wash my hands after typing it. The name sounds like something that it is oozing up from beneath the toilet. Something is oozing up from our toilet but I would rather work on this blog post than deal with that problem.
Now, as an explanation of why the heck these little stories are written, you must understand that I do not have much of a social life. And when I travel for business, I have nothing fun to occupy my mind. Therefore, I observe and record for my own pleasure, the things that occur when I travel. It is therapeutic for me but unfortunate for the you, the reader. Oh well. no one said you had to read this drivel. Take that as a warning.
I began writing these stories as a way to communicate back home, to my loved ones, about my trips and my safety. When all this started, we did not have cell phones that had international reach, so email was the only convenient way for me to stay in touch with them. As all things do, this started out as short email messages telling them where I was and what was going on. It was fine. And then these stories took on a life of their own and suddenly got out of hand. It is always fun until someone gets hurt.
These stories probably date back to the beginning of this century. Damn, that makes it sound like I must have written the first ones on parchment. But I didn't. Since I am a confirmed Conservative, and don't like change, I used a clay tablet. I remember writing the first story as if it were yesterday (cue the wavey lines and violin music).
I will post the actual stories when I have time. Maybe in the next century.
Well....it's not very dark. And it's not stormy, but as I write this, it is night. It is actually quite nice here in south east Texas, in my secret lair, where I sit and create this first blog post. Like Al Gore inventing the internet, I am sure that this night will soon be forgotten.
Blog. Now who came up with such a term? I feel I need to wash my hands after typing it. The name sounds like something that it is oozing up from beneath the toilet. Something is oozing up from our toilet but I would rather work on this blog post than deal with that problem.
Now, as an explanation of why the heck these little stories are written, you must understand that I do not have much of a social life. And when I travel for business, I have nothing fun to occupy my mind. Therefore, I observe and record for my own pleasure, the things that occur when I travel. It is therapeutic for me but unfortunate for the you, the reader. Oh well. no one said you had to read this drivel. Take that as a warning.
I began writing these stories as a way to communicate back home, to my loved ones, about my trips and my safety. When all this started, we did not have cell phones that had international reach, so email was the only convenient way for me to stay in touch with them. As all things do, this started out as short email messages telling them where I was and what was going on. It was fine. And then these stories took on a life of their own and suddenly got out of hand. It is always fun until someone gets hurt.
These stories probably date back to the beginning of this century. Damn, that makes it sound like I must have written the first ones on parchment. But I didn't. Since I am a confirmed Conservative, and don't like change, I used a clay tablet. I remember writing the first story as if it were yesterday (cue the wavey lines and violin music).
I will post the actual stories when I have time. Maybe in the next century.
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