Little Talks and Ethernets

Every week at this time I have a little talk with myself. “That blog isn’t going to write itself, you know?” I ask. Blogs don’t write themselves any more than novels, memoirs, or short stories do. As a mom raising girls I was famous for having “little talks.” In an effort not to embarrass them or myself, I’d pull them aside or wait for an opportune time to “have our little talk.” We seemed to settle everything this way. Now I have no one to pull over but myself, and apparently this has to happen repeatedly. Especially with one of the activities I most enjoy, which is writing.

Blogging holds my feet to the fire in a way I haven’t known since grad school. My daughter set up my blog for me. She was twenty-six at the time and while I was still hemming and hawing about whether or not I even wanted a blog, she set it all up on WordPress. Seeing it, I could title it. But she got me rolling. Her recommendation was that blogging be weekly, at a minimum. “You will lose all your readers, mom, if you do not post consistently.” It must have been pounded into me. That was last Thanksgiving, twenty-nine posts ago, and I haven’t missed a beat. Still, what she can’t see is that I go through this insane ritual every week like a high-wire act, trying to dodge out of it. In the meantime, it’s good practice….

One foot in this world, one foot in the old, that’s the precarious balance of our time—unless one is young enough, or nerdy enough, to be at home in the ethernets. I am reminded of a story of Queen Elizabeth’s coronation to the throne in 1952, following the death of her father, King George VI. Elizabeth too was twenty-six years old. This would be the first coronation ceremony since the advent of television and BBC would be broadcasting it live. Millions of British citizens were expected to huddle around television sets, many for the first time, and one of the overriding national concerns was: How are we going to know if the ladies aren’t wearing their hats?

That’s kind of where we are today, between worlds. Oh, the things that work for my daughters that weren’t in place for us. They have no idea. We were moving about and marrying and changing our names at their age, and all too easily losing track of one another. But with today’s technology and social networks, the twenty-somethings are part of an ever-growing community they carry with them from school to school, job to job, city to city, one name to the next. They and their friends and acquaintances are like satellites positioned and moving around the world at all times, and I am in awe, really.

Now, if I could just pry my heel out of this net….

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2 Comments

Filed under coronation, Uncategorized

2 responses to “Little Talks and Ethernets

  1. I’m so with you, Kim. Feet to the fire, every week!

  2. Alexander Finn

    This message hits home to so many baby boomers who are bedazzled by their children’s fast-paced, fully informed, responsible lifestyle. Now, it’s your daughters giving you that little talk when what you really want to do is have a little snippet of white wine and paint a story for your friends and kindred spirits. The key to your story is this expression of wisdom you possess and comes out between the lines in your body paragraphs.

    We idolize youth in America for their youthful bravado and take charge lives. They certainly have their fingers on the pulse of America. They are liberal, idealistic and you and I delight in this quality because it tells us that they are young and still guided by their hearts. But, what do they really know about life? about love? about loss? These are constants paid for with age and wisdom.

    And you too, are still guided by your heart, a youthful spirit, unlike other aging boomers who are guided by their intellect (which anyone knows sours wine) and so they are hardened. Your heart comes through in your wonderful conclusion, a one line laugh hoping that they’ll learn to follow their hearts too, all the way. Just another of your little talks, maybe?

    This is a wonderful piece Kim, one that surely bears repeating in future blogs. I can’t stand the word blog. Why do they call it that. When I hear the word blog, I think of some body secretion that has crusted over and needs to be expelled, expectorated or expunged in our morning freshening rituals. Sorry to go there but you’re the one making me dreamy.

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