By Cindy Beck
Why is it that when I open a blog composition box, my brain runs away and joins the circus?
Really, it's not that hard to write a blog, is it? Nowadays, almost everyone does it ... including Bo-Bo, the Chimp. I'm proud to say that even my seventy-three-year-old mother, who's definitely smarter than Bo-Bo, writes a blog.
Wait. Look at that last sentence. Is "seventy-three-year-old" really supposed to have that many hyphens? It looks like someone took a knife and stabbed it in multiple places.
I'm thinking it's questions like "What hyphens go where?" that cause my knees to shake and my insides to feel like they're filled with live gummy worms when writing something for the Internet. After all, what if I hyphenate something wrong? Or my spellcheck runs a mock and lets all kinds of pore lee spelled words through?
For many years, I chugged along in ignorant bliss believing that if I made errors on a web page and posted it, I could delete the page seconds later. Poof ... with one keystroke, all my grammar sins would be forgiven.
Some time ago, in a heart wrenching moment of discovery, I learned that in a galaxy far, far away there is actually an archive that's been keeping track of posted web pages—you know, the www.SomethingOrOther.com type pages—since the Dark Ages of 1996.
Alas and alack, yes.
I'd list the address of the archives, in case there are some who want to check the accuracy of my facts, but I intend to delete this entry right after I post it, in case it contains errors and is being archived.
Besides that, I can't remember the address. Along with being a talented, fat-fingered typist who can fool spellcheck with sound-alike words (also known as homophones), I have a memory that's like cheesecloth tied in a knot. Or not. See? Another homophone.
It's lucky for me that I have such a sieved memory, because otherwise I'd be out there moaning over my misspelled words, poorly placed images, and text that looks like it was written in China.
Still, despite the dangers of making a bloggy mistake that makes me look like I'm related to Bo-Bo the Chimp, I'm here today, posting more words to grieve over in the future.
Why? Because after a vast amount of research (ten seconds just now on the 'Net), I'm thinking the robots that do the archiving can't access this blog. I'm not sure what that means for Bo-Bo the Chimp, but for me it means I'm safe as long as I'm here.
And that makes me feel a lot better. Therefore ... let the miss steaks beguine and the chips fall wear they Mae!
(Author's note: This blog entry was all in fun, but the archives are real and if you're interested in accessing them, you can find them here: http://www.archive.org/web/web.php
Winner of last week's contest:
The winner of the book, "The Sunflower Club" is Shirley Bahlmann! Wahoo, Shirley, way to go!
What's playing in my head: Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite, by the Beatles.
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