What’s in a Blog?

Rooster made from flotsam found on Lumahai Beach, island of Kauai, where the movie South Pacific was filmed.  PHOTO KCS

                                                                                                            

THIS BLOG turns 6-years-old on December 14.

I had finished two previous blogs about my road trips to New Mexico and Montana. Both blogs are accessible through my profile info *, entitled Thunderbird at High Noon and Montana Moonrise. In order to blog, you must register a name for your blog. It's shocking how many names are already taken which leads to some wild brainstorming.

Thunderbird at High Noon? It didn't make sense to me either until I met the Thunderbird in Shiprock, AZ.

As far as blogging in general, I had no idea what I was doing. Still don't. I simply see a blank space and figure I can fill it with whatever I want: words, photos and videos, play a little with the type font and not have an editor looking over my shoulder, fiddling with my words. This is a luxury. It's also a risk. A blogger is like a trapeze artist without a net. Ouch! Those misspellings, grammatical errors and factual missteps can hurt. You're a committee of one.

If you do go back to my earlier blogs you will see weird spaces in some places where cool photos once were. I thought I had been hacked but I think I lost the photos due to my misunderstanding of how blog photos are stored. I hope to retrieve those photos if I can figure out that trick.

While employed, I looked forward to the day when I would be able to surf during hours of the day when most folks were busy at work or school, when fewer people would be in the water. It sounded like heaven, not having to deal with crowded lineups. 

I decided to name my new blog Talking Surf Stories and write about surfing from the perspective of the soul surfer, basically the everyperson surfer who enters water for fun, as opposed to the pros who are out to compete and local-break enforcers who enter with entitlement, not a smile.

My subject would include talking about the moods of the tides, swells and storms that we rely on for waves, a love for the ocean, the joy, regeneration and comaraderie that we draw from it.

That was the central topic of this blog for the first two years, before I started to write about more personal stuff, like friends and music and other non-surfing subjects. Then COVID hit, sheltering and work furloughs began and throngs of wannabe surfers flocked to the water where they could play outdoors. Surf breaks became more loaded than ever, including during those heretofore empty pockets of time only a few could fill.

Barbara and I were essentially trapped in Paradise on the island of Kauai. A tough sentence but somebody had to be there. Our flights home were canceled. I blogged everyday about our situation, not about surfing. Life since then has not been the same. My focus changed and so did my blog, but not the title.

So I've made a slight alteration to the name of my blog. It's now Talking Real Stories, with the subtitle About Nothing and Everything. One of my readers told me that my writing reminded her of Seinfeld, the TV show about nothing. I took that as a compliment. What could be more interesting than a story about George Costanza's wallet, Kramer's latest fettish, or Elaine's awkward dancing. Are you celebrating Festivus this year?

Certainly I'm not Jerry Seinfeld, or Larry David, thank God. But, to paraphrase Gertrude Stein, there must be something there there.

My mailing list is very small in blogger terms, about 75 people. I’ll never strike it rich. I send it out by email. If you have a new email address, please let me know. If you know someone who might enjoy reading about nothing, send me their email address. I try to keep the pieces short with a marvelous ending so that you'll finish. 

There's a guy they call the mayor who posts himself above Steamer Lane surf break in Santa Cruz. He prides himself as the prince of useless information. Even though he offers nothing, surfers and others gather round him like seagulls around trash. My point.

Google's algorithms allow me to see how many views each of my posts receives. The average is around 125 views, which means that I'm getting about a 67% boost of views from the number I'm sending out. It does not tell me who is viewing my blog, so rest assured you're not being surveilled. It's just a number. 

My post Forty Years in Santa Cruz, Sept. 13, 2018, has received 808 views to date, by far the top of the heap.

Twenty-twenty-two has been somewhat of a challenge, what with my spider bite -- Kiss of the Tropical Spider July 15, 2022 -- and recently getting COVID. Yes, it finally caught up with me. Thanks to being fully vaxed,  my symptoms were brief. I feel great today and look forward to a new year, maybe some fresh creative ideas for my blog in 2023, the Year of the Rabbit according to the Chinese Zodiac.

Talking recently to my grandson Samson who celebrated his 14th birthday on Thanksgiving, I asked if he was looking forward to the new year. He said, "Yes, because I keep getting better looking." His Grandma Coco told him that. I had to tell him about 1969 Super Bowl Champion Quarterback Joe Namath's famous statement:

"I can't wait till tomorrow because I get better looking everyday.' Samson liked that.

Here's hoping the new year is a good one for you and yours. And remember, you'll look better if you wear a smile on your face.

* If you're reading this on an iPhone and want to find my profile page, go to bottom and click View web version.