I've been at this for awhile, each day every day. One program, system, or site and where am I?
Too far...pages and pages of notes, passwords,user names...today is one of those days where I don't know which end is up.
OK, I do have a part time job...mostly. You would think with all that free time, I would have mastered this apparent elusive art. But no, I'm still out here, little fish, being lured into deeper waters each step.
So, what's a newbie to do? Right now, I think I'll just hang out near the shore and chill.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Processing
Going on two weeks and I am just now settling down, absorbing the impact of the news even as it's been blasted across the world 24/7. Am I slow? Maybe. No matter. I get it. Got it the moment regularly scheduled programming had been interrupted. I just struggled to get to the connection.
Where was I when I first heard the music? Their music. Who was I when this group of boys, who looked like us, first came across the radio? Grade school-an institution that doesn't even exist anymore, K-8Th education has been replaced...
There I was then plaid skirt, white blouse, hideous shoes. I remember it being toward the end of the school year, summer just breaking through...the end of a long day, waiting to be picked up or the last song of a dance. "I'll Be There" the signal a sign, to have some boys arm on your shoulder or around your waist. What this meant didn't matter, it was something to move you closer to some far off place called adolescence. High school was just months away it was certainly down hill from there, wasn't it?
I was put these images together, connected to all the others broadcast daily, yesterday-all morning, glued to CNN. Listening feeling the music, poke then pull its way out...finally able to connect to the madness the media had created. Rest in peace Michael.
Where was I when I first heard the music? Their music. Who was I when this group of boys, who looked like us, first came across the radio? Grade school-an institution that doesn't even exist anymore, K-8Th education has been replaced...
There I was then plaid skirt, white blouse, hideous shoes. I remember it being toward the end of the school year, summer just breaking through...the end of a long day, waiting to be picked up or the last song of a dance. "I'll Be There" the signal a sign, to have some boys arm on your shoulder or around your waist. What this meant didn't matter, it was something to move you closer to some far off place called adolescence. High school was just months away it was certainly down hill from there, wasn't it?
I was put these images together, connected to all the others broadcast daily, yesterday-all morning, glued to CNN. Listening feeling the music, poke then pull its way out...finally able to connect to the madness the media had created. Rest in peace Michael.
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