The proud, the many, the chronically malcontented bloggers

One day last week while I was admiring how lovely my blog looks, I noticed the link at the top of the window that says <<Next Blog>>. Since I only have one blog, I wondered where the link might take me. Wow. There are a lot of malcontented people in the blogosphere.

Maybe Google uses keywords on my blog to transport me to blogs of like-minded malcontents. Or maybe it's just a random link to the next bizarre example of someone's self-expression. All I know is, I'm not alone. And I'm just a malcontent wannabe when it comes to whining. Some of these bloggers are masters at the art of martyrdom, sniveling, and moroseness. I bow down.

After I perused a few blogs, I noticed that some of them hadn't been updated in a long time. Like, years. Then I realized that abandoned blogs litter the blogscape like ramshackle cabins left from gold rush days. Apparently people felt a need to express themselves, they expressed, and then they moved on. Sort of like the way we use portapotties at the local park.

We got rid of another one of
your paintings today, honey!

And who can blame them, these casual bloggers. It's free and easy to start a blog. Anyone can do it. I think my mother could do it: She's 82 and typed her zip code into her dial-up account instead of the provider's dial-up number, but hey, that's a mistake anyone could make. She can type, ergo she can blog. I asked her what she would like to blog about. She thought about it for a moment, and then she said, "I think I would like to talk about how to be a friend." I was like, right on, Mom.

So, anyone can set up a blog and write a few things for a week or two, maybe even for a month. But day after day, week after week? Now, that is hard. Look at me, I've been blogging for what, three weeks? And already, I'm blogging about blogging. I'm meta-blogging. That's sort of like using one credit card to pay another. The kiss of death.

Some abandoned blogs were obviously for groups. Social groups, families, a place that was intended for members to gather and celebrate the group's existence, share accomplishments, make plans. These blogs remind me of half-built hotels. They ran out of funding, lost their investors, and now they clutter the blog horizon. You can't stay in these blog hotels, but you can tour the ground floor and get a sense of what it could have been. Is there an unlimited capacity to store these derelict blogs? What will I do when I have neglected my blog for a year and can no longer remember the password?

To all the bloggers who came before me, thank you for blazing the blog trail. Thank you for decorating the blogscape with your personalities, observations, complaints, and shouts of glory. Even if you have moved on, you've left behind an environment of creativity and self-expression that I find both inspiring and hopeful. Inspiring because after seeing your blogs, I know I'm capable of doing what you did, and reassuring because if I abandon my blog in three months, I will be in good company. Here's to us, bloggers young and old, here and gone.